


Second Chances

by Moonanstars



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Blood and Violence, F/F, Injury Recovery, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Season/Series 17, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2020-10-30 05:43:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 47,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20809505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonanstars/pseuds/Moonanstars
Summary: The last paradox has been fixed and time is going forward again.  There are a lot of second chances ahead.





	1. This Time

**Author's Note:**

> It's been what seems like a million years since I have written anything other than RP but this has been nagging at the back of my brain for a while now. This is not been beta'd so it's rough. I have a general outline set up so I'm hoping to update every couple of weeks or so. Tags will be added as I go. Please let me know if I miss any tags. I am so not used to posting anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how I said there was no beta and all the mistakes were me? Well now chapter one has had the wonderful Wordsy edit and now I am reposting the chapter in all of its beta'd glory. The story remains the same but now it has much better grammar, use of commas and some clarifications where things were muddy. 
> 
> Wordsy is awesome, you should go read her stuff if you don't and visit her on Tumblr too (wordsysayswords)

Later, Locus would wonder at just how hard fate had to work when it managed to shove his life back into the Reds and Blues's.

It was statistically improbable that they could have randomly shot their robot's head into space and had it end up where Locus would hear the distress signal, but they did. There was no reason for his ship A'rynasea to have picked up a distress signal so scrambled by proximity to a black hole, but she did.

Locus had picked up Lopez's head, despite the fact he was one of the Sim Trooper's men, because he had been floating in the same sector that Locus was searching for the false sim troopers. They had murdered a refugee colony by stealing its power generator, leaving the people without clean air and water. Every man, woman, and child of that colony had died slowly and afraid. It only made sense that the Reds and Blues would be involved in this, and if Locus wanted information, he needed Lopez.

And according to what the robot told him of the capture of the Reds and Blues by the enemy sim troopers, Locus needed to retrieve Grif. Apparently, he had stayed behind on the moon Iris when the others left, and for someone who had slept through an alien invasion and been the only survivor, Grif wasn't handling solitude well this time around. 

The flight to Armada 8 was intensely uncomfortable. The sim trooper insisting on bringing his mock-friends made out of volleyballs and spewing a barrage of questions that didn't even slow down enough to be answered until Locus finally was able to get Grif to listen to his strategy by giving him an MRE and several carefully hoarded chocolate bars to eat so he'd stop talking.

Sending Grif in to be the distraction was a calculated risk. It appeared that Temple wasn't outright killing the other Sim troopers so Grif should only be captured when he was caught. The pair needed the Freelancers, and Locus needed the distraction to find where the Freelancers were.

Finding them locked in their armor surrounded by the corpses of their former teammates was not what Locus had expected. He had to reevaluate his opinion on how dangerous Temple was after finding Agents Carolina and Washington severely dehydrated, starving, and in the case of Washington, hallucinating. The Freelancers were going to be little help in their escape.

And of course, after Locus broke the Reds and Blues from their cells and led the group toward the hangar to escape, it all went to Hell. Temple and his men were gone, but they had left behind a platoon of sim troopers. Captain Tucker had ignored Locus' suggestion that they move carefully to avoid detection and instead ran in without a plan. He was going to get them all killed.

“Idiot!”

Why was Locus destined to deal with people who couldn't follow orders? They needed to make their way out of the Blues and Reds’s lair and past the remaining troops, and the group could have easily escaped without any confrontation if they'd just took a moment to plan things out. Instead, Captain Tucker had decided to jump into battle, guns blazing and blowing any chance of an easy escape.

All Locus could do was provide cover and hope he managed to get them out alive. 

“We had the element of surprise, now we're just fish in a barrel!” He yelled as he fired several times and took out the grunts firing at them with non-lethal shots. Locus had vowed not to kill anymore, but the Reds and Blues were making that very difficult at the moment.

Captain Tucker laughed and took his own shots with more lethal results than Locus did. 

“We're the fish with guns!” The man sounded absolutely gleeful about the mayhem he was causing, making Locus grind his teeth in irritation. The group was pinned down and outnumbered. There was absolutely nothing about this situation to be enthusiastic about.

He lifted his rifle to aim at the soldier at the gun mount. It was a shot Locus had made countless times before; the soldier wasn't being careful about keeping his head behind the shield of the gun. The mercenary could easily kill him. Locus found his finger tightening on the trigger before he forced himself to relax his grip. 

“I have no shot. Re-positioning.” 

Triggering his armor’s camo unit, he slipped out of cover to move to the side, where he could take out the man on the gun without killing him. He was ducking behind a set of crates to use as cover when the shouting started behind him.

“WASH! WASH! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? WASH, GET DOWN!” 

Captain Tucker's panicked shouting yanked Locus’s attention around just in time to see Agent Washington, still hallucinating, stumble out into the middle of the firefight and get shot through the throat. With a silent snarl, Locus shot out the knees of the soldier at the mounted gun. Sarge was yelling for cover as he and Caboose waded into the enemy soldiers with such single minded ferocity that the enemy began retreating, despite their superior numbers. Locus hoped he wouldn't be hauling out more injured or deceased soldiers in a few minutes.

The reporter that had been imprisoned with them in Temple's underwater lair was shadowed by her cameraman as she crouched down beside Agent Washington. A pool of blood was starting to gather under the fallen soldier. Locus had programmed his HUD to recognize the Reds and Blues’s armor and life signs when they had all shared a radio channel to communicate. Right now, there were warnings and alerts popping up everywhere. While the Freelancer's armor’s life support had failed while he was in the freezer, it was still trying to communicate the gravity of the injury to the rest of the squad.

“Alright, get him on your damn ship!” Captain Tucker was just suddenly there grabbing Locus by the arm and dragging him towards Washington. “Fly faster this time, I don't know how just fucking get him to the closest hospital.”

“This time?” Locus suppressed the urge to shake Captain Tucker off because it looked like Agent Carolina was ready to take his other arm and drag him faster if he didn't comply. He'd already planned to load Washington into his ship and take him for medical aid, so resisting was pointless, if very tempting. 

“A’rynasea! Come! Quickly!” Locus turned to tell the others to help him load Washington into the ship only to find they were already preparing to move him.

“Get him on my ship.” A'rynasea had flown in to land while Sarge and Caboose were finishing off the last of the enemy soldiers, and her ramp stood open and ready for the fallen Freelancer. “I will take him to the nearest hospital, he needs immediate care.”

Since Tucker and Grif were carrying Washington, Locus led the way, grabbing the emergency medical supplies to have on hand while A’rynasea piloted them toward Chorus. It wasn't an ideal place to land given his history, but it was the closest medical facility. Washington did not have time to wait. 

“You can't come with—” Locus started to say.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, no room,” Tucker interrupted. “We need to go stop Temple. We'll take care of our business—you just take care of Wash.”

Tucker and Grif lay Washington on the floor. Having the two extra bodies in the small ship was already making it almost impossible to move. Carolina stood outside, having forced her worn out body to follow them and see that her fellow Freelancer was safely inside. She should be heading to a medical facility herself after being locked in her armor for days.

“Just take care of him,” she said, doing her best to make it look like she wasn’t hanging on the doorframe to stay upright. “We'll meet up with you as soon as we take care of Temple and his men.”

Locus didn't answer, instead giving her a single nod.

“Get off my ship so I can take off,” he told them.

“A’rynasea,” Locus called. “Take us to Chorus. Ignore safety protocols—fly as quickly as possible to the new capital city. Land on the roof of the hospital.”

The ramp retracted, and the door shut as soon as the others were off the ship. Locus felt the lurch artificial gravity and inertial dampening couldn't quite compensate for. 

Take off was smooth, but there was a noticeable difference to the feeling of accelerating out of atmosphere when you ignored the usual safety rules. He knew A’rynasea would account for all variables and only inform him if there was something that needed his personal attention so he would be free to concentrate on the injured Freelancer. Locus turned his attention back to Washington, popping the seals on the agent's helmet and removing it. The warnings from his HUD indicated there was fluid in Washington's lungs, and he was threatening to aspirate even more since he was bleeding into his helmet. 

Once the Freelancer’s helmet was off, Locus turned Washington on his side to help clear the blood from his airway. The wound went straight through his neck and, according to the reading on the bioscanner, had nicked part of the esophagus so Locus couldn't fill it with biofoam without suffocating the man. Locus settled for applying it to the outside of the wounds to slow as much of the bleeding as he could.

The pain of the biofoam in the wounds unfortunately jarred Washington back to consciousness and, only recognizing that he was in pain, he did his best to lash out and get away. Even if he hadn't been shot, Washington was in no condition to escape after the days spent locked in his armor. His struggles were weak at best, although he did manage to hook his fingers into Locus' armor and pull him off balance briefly.

“Agent Washington, I am not here to hurt you,” Locus told him, though he doubted it would help if Washington was hallucinating again. But Locus needed him to stay still. He'd dislodged the biofoam from the wound, letting the blood flow freely from his neck again. Locus was forced to hold him down and apply more. The sharp sting of the biofoam in the wound made Washington try to gasp in pain, but unfortunately, it turned into a cough that rattled deep in his chest as he inhaled more blood into his lungs. That effectively took the fight out of the man. It was all he could do to get the air he needed to stay alive. 

“A'rynasea, increase the oxygen level to compensate for Agent Washington's wounds.” 

The ship gave a quiet beep indicating it was complying. Locus stayed on the floor with Washington, holding him in place to let the biofoam set. For a few moments, the man was so still and limp laying there that Locus would have thought he was dead if it weren't for the readings on Washington’s HUD. Washington's open eyes focused on some distant spot as he breathed in shallow pants to avoid choking again. Locus had expected fear or confusion from the Freelancer, but all he saw was a sort of weariness, like someone facing something inevitable. Like he was bracing himself.

_ This time. _ Captain Tucker's words came back to Locus.

He was distracted by Washington coughing out blood in thick spatters onto the floor before reaching out and managing to grab hold of Locus' chest plate again. It would have been easy to break loose from the weak grip, but instead, Locus let himself be drawn down closer by the weak tug at his armor.

“Na...name.” Washington could barely choke out the word between the blood in his throat and the tight grip Locus had on his neck, but he was obviously determined to be heard. The stare leveled at the blank gaze of Locus' helmet never wavered, even when the Freelancer's breath rattled alarmingly and he needed to keep pausing to cough out more blood in order to breathe.

It felt like the Freelancer was seeing straight through Locus’s helmet. It sent an uneasy feeling crawling up his spine until Locus turned his head to look away. Grif's volleyballs sat in a row on the console, staring at him with their foil visors catching the lights from the controls in a way that almost made them look like real helmets instead of sporting goods.

_ Who are you? _

The question from the AI at the temple on Chorus still haunted him. It rang inside his head in the quiet of deep space when he sat in the pilot's chair of A'rynasea, listening for signals that might lead him to his next mission. He'd heard its echo in the dying words of the last colonist he was too late to save. Washington wasn't just asking him his name. He was asking Locus to bare his soul.

Locus used his free hand to remove his helmet with a sigh and put it on the floor before turning back to meet Washington's eyes. “Sam.”

There was a hint of surprise on Washington's face when Locus met his gaze, but the surprise was quickly replaced by the hint of a smile and an approving nod. Whatever the former freelancer was looking for, he had apparently found it.

“Da...vi...vid.” Washington looked at him expectantly, his breath coming in shallow gasps until Locus nodded that he'd heard and understood that he had been freely given something he'd taken before. Washington's name and history had been available in the records they obtained from Project Freelancer and Price’s vast knowledge of the project. This personal exchange of names evened a balance between the pair in some way.

Another of those rattling coughs shook Washington, and Locus pushed him onto his side to help him breathe without drowning in his own blood. There was too much blood being lost and very little that Locus could do about it while on the ship. He didn't keep medical supplies for a major injury on board. Ironically, the thing he needed to help Washington was already installed in his armor, but the Freelancer healing unit had failed after trying to support its user through days of armor lock and was now barely functioning. They needed to reach Chorus soon or medical treatment was not going to be much help.

Washington had fallen unconscious not long after he told Locus his name. The rest of the flight felt like a race against the clock winding down to Washington's death. There wasn't much more that Locus could do besides stay where he was with the man half draped over him, holding the biofoam and bandages in place while feeling new blood leak over his fingers every time Washington coughed and choked.

A’rynasea needed to be prompted a few more times to ignore safety protocols but got them to Chorus faster than Locus expected. Once they were on the roof of the hospital, Locus put his helmet back on and hefted Washington in a fireman's carry. His plan was to leave him near the entrance and trip an alarm on the way out, but like everything else that happened to him when he dealt with the Reds and Blues, what he intended was not at all what happened.

“FREEZE!” Coming through the door of the roof were four soldiers leveling their rifles at Locus. Of course it would be the Lieutenants that found him. With Washington on his shoulder it was impossible to move effectively and unless he was willing to dump the man on the ground that wasn't going to change. Using his camo wouldn't help since his armor was spattered and smeared with blood that would make him a clear target.

“I am not here to kill you.” Locus said. 

“Oh my God, it's Locus!” The soldier with armor edged in Captain Tucker's signature teal practically squeaked, and Locus wondered if he was going to end up shot by the panicked soldier.

“I am going to put Agent Washington down now,” Locus told them. “I would appreciate you not shooting us.” 

Carefully keeping his hands clearly in sight, Locus knelt down to shift Washington off of his shoulder and to the ground. The soldiers all put their fingers on their triggers and tracked his movements, ready to shoot him at the slightest provocation. Once Washington was on the ground, Locus went back to putting pressure on the wounds to try to keep the Freelancer from bleeding out before help arrived.

The Lieutenants looked to each other and then back to Locus, clearly unsure how to proceed. 

“Is this a trap?” Said the one with the teal accents,his finger tensed on the trigger. 

“Palomo, wait.” The one in the armor with blue trim pushed the muzzle of the other soldier's rifle into the air before he could fire. “That's really Agent Washington. Get Doctor Grey. Bitters, Jensen cover me.” 

The Lieutenant slipped his rifle into the holder on his back and stepped forward to where Locus knelt with his hands pressed to Washington's neck, trying to keep the last of the biofoam from coming loose. Locus’s gloves were abandoned long ago, and his fingers were smeared with old and new blood. Locus saw the Lieutenant's eyes widen at the state Washington was in and just how much blood was splattered on Locus' armor.

“I am going to use my field kit...I would appreciate it if you don't try to kill me while I help you with this,” Smith gestured at Washington as he pulled out an emergency kit packed with new biofoam, more bandages, and a collapsible oxygen mask that had about a ten minute air supply.

“My hands, as you can see, are full. Any aid would be appreciated.” Locus ignored the fact that the one called Bitters had edged around him until he could stand with his rifle barrel practically touching Locus' helmet. To be honest, Locus didn't trust the others to hit him if they started shooting, and Washington had taken enough bullets for the day.

Locus stayed still while Smith applied the biofoam to Washington's wound and started up the oxygen mask. There was only so much they could do to support the injured Freelancer with their limited supplies. But luckily, the lieutenants must have called for medical backup as soon as Locus had arrived because several more people came jogging up with a stretcher and pushed Locus and Smith out of the way to attend to Washington.

It was both a good and bad sign that a small woman with dark curls brushing her shoulders was with them. Doctor Emily Grey was the best doctor he had ever encountered, but she was not a fan of Locus and while he knew he could kill her where she stood when not surrounded by heavily armed enemy combatants, she could be a terrifying sight if you didn't have a way to defend yourself.

Doctor Grey walked up to stand right in front of Locus and rocked up on her toes like a kid bored of standing in line who was starting to fidget. 

“Did you know that Chorus was the closest medical facility when you offered to transport Wash?” Doctor Grey was using her nicest lilt of a voice, which Locus knew meant she was likely thinking of ways to dissect him while causing the most pain. He'd never feared Donald Doyle, but he'd had seen what the good doctor could do to a prisoner of war and had respected that enough to give her a wide berth when he could.

“I did.” There was no sense lying so Locus didn't even try.

“So you did know what would happen to you if you were caught? Hmm?” She had always worn her helmet and armor when the planet was actively at war, but now she wore only the protective under suit and her scrubs. Locus liked it better when he couldn't see her expression.

“Yes,” Locus said, getting impatient waiting for the decision on whether they were going to shoot him where he stood. “I understand the consequences. However, I have intel on the situation Agent Carolina and her men are facing that I hoped to deliver before you executed me.”

Locus could tell that Emily Grey would like to have him shot and dance on his grave to celebrate, possibly returning every year to do another little jig, but she was also ruthlessly practical. Her mouth pressed into a straight line as she narrowed her eyes to study Locus before looking at Smith. “Take him. President Kimball will want to see him. And gentlemen, I'd suggest removing his armor and putting some restraints on him. We wouldn't want him to get frisky would we? Now if you'll excuse me, I have a patient to get into surgery.” 

With that, she turned on her heel and left Locus behind, surrounded by the Lieutenants, to be arrested.

He never should have picked up that damn robot.

  
  



	2. New Paths

"Carolina, are you sure you're okay?" Tucker had switched over to a private channel to try to get her attention but Carolina wasn't really ready to talk so she pretended not to hear him. Even if that was ridiculous because either her radio would have to broken or she'd have to be stone deaf to miss it. 

They were just a few minutes away from landing on Chorus after they'd run down and captured Temple and his men on Earth. It hadn't been as long of a fight as the last time since they knew where Temple was headed but it had ended the same way. Exactly like they'd expected, after all they'd removed the last paradox so time should be going forward the way they expected it. Right?

After the fight the ship from Chorus had been where they expected it and the Lieutenants were there waiting. Carolina was impatient to get back to Wash even if he wouldn't be in any shape to see them when they got there. Hell, she wasn't in any shape to see any of them herself. Doc had forced some electrolyte drinks on her along with a ration bar but mostly they felt like they were sitting somewhere below her lungs in a giant lump instead of doing her any good. 

"Did somebody call for backup?" Smith looked as military spit and polish as he always did. He didn't sound as happy to see them as he did in Carolina's memory of the first time around. She wanted to blame that on how shewas itching with impatience and feeling kind of like that time she'd hit the cement barier on the highway at about sixty miles and hour but intead there was something about the way the four Lieutenants were holding themselves that made her bones ache with tension. 

Tucker didn't seem to notice or feel what Carolina did since she could practically hear the grin in his voice for Smith and the others being there. "Hey! Look who finally showed up."

"Dex!" Kai had launched herself out of the ship to grab Grif in a hug. It hadn't been that long since they saw each other while traveling through the past to fix the paradoxes but Grif hugged her right back before he started trying to get her to hug Simmons while Simmons was doing his best to stay out of arm's reach with his voice cracking into multiple octaves as he yelled the siblings to stop it.

Jensen pushed Palomo's shoulder when he started laughing at the antics and he coughed and pretended he was being serious when she bapped him in the chest with the back of her hand before looking to Carolina and Tucker. "You'll be happy to know Dr. Grey has Washington alive and recovering. But there was an incident..." 

"An incident?" Carolina snapped a look to Jensen and both she and Palomo took a step back from her like she was a snake about to strike. Forcing herself not to be offended she took a deep breath to center herself and reminded herself they were allies and threatening their lives to talk faster was poor form on her part. "What incident?"

Palomo still took another step backward leaving Jensen standing on her own but before Carolina could demand information again Smith stepped in between the Freelancer and the others. "Agent Washington's ride was caught...in the act I suppose you could say...and President Kimball had him arrested. She would like for you to see her immediately upon our arrival to Chorus." His voice was apologetic but Carolina wasn't sure if it was because he was delivering the news or because Locus had been arrested but not killed. 

"Well shit." Any trace of that smile in Tucker's voice was gone. "That wasn't supposed to happen. How could that happen?"

"I have no idea." Carolina wasn't surprised to find Sarge standing by her shoulder. He and Tucker were protecting her flanks like they'd trained to do it knowing she wouldn't want to show her weakness right now. "Get them on the Pelican, let's not keep President Kimball waiting." 

In the end they had all got on the transport except the reporter Dylan and her camera man Jax. Dylan wanted to file her story and get the word out there about the Blues and Reds and hopefully start taking some of the UNSC pressure off of Chorus. The rest of them had just tumbled into the Pelican and various seats, or in Grif's case stretched out on the floor for a nap, but Carolina had stayed leaning against a wall near the back of the ship. That feeling of tension hadn't gotten any better. She wanted to pace but she was afraid her knees would dump her out on the floor if she tried to walk. If that happened the others would sic Doc on her again and he'd force her to sit down and if she sat...

"Carolina?" Tucker's voice had gone up a notch in volume on their private channel since she hadn't answered him the first time. Apparently keeping her helmet on and ignoring anything he said to avoid conversation hadn't worked. "I heard you Tucker. " 

The exasperated sigh from Tucker crackled in the speakers of her helmet making her grimace. "Well fucking answer so I don't think you're passed out in your armor or something. Are you all right?" 

"I'm fine, Tucker. " She left it at that, not trusting herself to say much else. Things had started changing from the way they were before and that scared her. Maybe Wash wasn't guaranteed to live if things could change and after all they'd just gone through she didn't think she could stand it if she didn't have him there. It would be the same for Tucker, and Sarge and the others. They'd all broken every rule out there along with time itself just on the chance they could fix Wash. If they lost him Carolina didn't want to know what that would do to this new family they'd put together. 

But Tucker wasn't going to let her get away with half assed answers anymore. "Look, I get it. You and Wash and saying you're fine is like your shitty self defense mechanism. Don't show blood in the water with all the sharks and all that shit. But, in case you hadn't noticed, you don't live with sharks anymore. " Tucker shrugged one shoulder while he looked at her like he was making sure she was paying attention. "I'm just saying, if you actually admit what we all know...that you aren't fine...no one is going to attack or stab you in the back or any of that melodramatic Freelancer bullshit anymore."

There was the light jostle of the Pelican making its landing while Carolina was trying to think of how to respond. So much of the time she made the mistake of thinking there was nothing of substance in the head of the Reds and Blues, even if she knew better, so when one of them skewered her with something like this it stunned her. She'd just started to get her mental feet under her when Tucker stood up from his lean against the wall next to her. 

"If you want me to tell the others you're fine I will but maybe you could stop holding up the wall so hard so I can sell it a little better." Tucker's tone went back to joking and he nudged her shoulder with his own on his way past her toward the door. It was something she'd seen him do with Wash, his way of reassuring him by letting Wash know he was there but he'd never done that with her before. 

It felt good. There were times she felt a little jealous of Wash and how much he fit in. He was a Blue, and Carolina was just Carolina, neither Red nor Blue. And maybe sometimes because she wasn't really either she felt like she kept herself on the outside. But Tucker letting her know he was there the same way he would for Wash made if feel like somewhere inside of her a wall she'd put up might have come down when she wasn't paying attention. 

"Tucker?" She watched him stop and look back over his shoulder at her, the blank visor of his helmet managing to look curious with the way he tipped his head to the side waiting for what she had to say. "I don't think there's a word for how tired I am right now and somehow even though we fixed things there's still changes. And I don't know what to expect and that scares me a little." 

She reached up and took her helmet off despite her face showing the obvious toll for being locked in her armor for days on end. Her flaming hair lay lank and dull in tangles stuck to her forehead and neck. There were dark circles under her eyes that were made worse by her pallor. Carolina had always had an angular face but after several days of starving and dehydration she was nothing but sharp angles and the tendons in her neck stood out making her look more gaunt than she really was.

"Right now it's less worrying about the blood in the water and more about the fact if I sit down I'm not getting up for a week." All she wanted to do was shed the heavy pieces of armor and the undersuit she was fairly sure had melded to her skin about three days ago and sleep. But that was going to have to wait until she saw Kimball. 

Tucker had let out a low curse when she took off her helmet and he took his helmet off but he waited until she was done talking. Carolina suspected it was so he could get his expression under control. She knew how she looked, she'd seen it the first time they ran through Wash getting shot. 

He put his helmet under his arm to carry it and dropped back to walk beside Carolina like he was expecting to have to help her walk. "Jesus, Carolina you look like shit. You sure you shouldn't be in a wheelchair or something?" He flinched away from the glare leveled at him and muttered something under his breath about 'fucking freelancers' and rolled his eyes so hard his whole head moved in a small circle but either he was getting used to her death threat looks, or more likely, knew if push came to shove right now he could definitely outrun her. "Fine, whatever, go see Kimball and I'll check in on Wash." 

Tucker veered off to the side and grabbed Caboose by the arm to direct him toward the hospital while Carolina turned toward the capitol building and put her helmet back on. Vanessa Kimball was her friend but right now with everything going on she couldn't show the weakness she was feeling. Smith and Bitters moved up to walk behind her and slightly to either side to escort her to Kimball's office since she didn't slow down enough to let them in front. 

"Agent Carolina." Kimball wasn't wearing her armor, which would normally be a good sign, instead it showed that her short brown hair was sticking out in a frizzy halo giving evidence to how often she must have run her hands through it. "You have left quite the problem on my doorstep. Smith told me that Temple and his remaining men are successfully on their way to be processed for detention so at least one thing went right today." Kimball had caught her hand heading toward her hair and crossed her arms instead. Right now it wasn't Kimball their friend that she was talking to, it was _President_ Kimball, and she wasn't going to let that friendship damage what she was trying to do for Chorus. 

"Right now Locus is being kept in a holding cell here in the building until we've decided what to do. Personally I want to go into that cell and put him down like a dog for the people he killed and for keeping chorus at war for so long." There was a definite growl to Kimball's voice every time she said Locus' name. To be honest Carolina was mildly impressed that she wasn't spitting to the side every time she said the name for the amount of venom Kimball was putting behind it. "Politically, there's a possibility that if the UNSC found out we were holding him they could use it as a tool to step in and 'manage' things which would be a step toward trying to remove our independence."

"But you haven't quietly executed him yet?" Carolina was curious why. Locus and Felix had nearly murdered everyone on the planet. She wouldn't blame Kimball for dragging him behind a building and shooting him. It wasn't what Carolina wanted but she would understand it. 

This time Kimball's hand managed to make it into her hair as she sighed. Obviously she wasn't happy about any of this. "That was personally and politically. But as your friend...he saved Wash and helped you and the reds and blues and it buys him something... I don't just don't know what yet. "What happened Carolina?" 

All Carolina wanted to do was take off her armor and lay down to stop moving for the next couple of days but she didn't think that was going to be an option any time soon. "It's a long story, and if you give me time to check in on Wash I will tell you all of it. It's just I thought I knew what as going to happen as we moved forward but it turns out I don't. I thought I knew exactly how events would go and now I'm finding out I have no idea what to expect." 

"Carolina, I don't know what that means." There was something about Carolina's tone that had obviously caught Kimball's attention. Concern was etched across her face and she took a couple of steps toward the Freelancer with her hand reaching out for her arm. "What...." 

"President Kimball! There's a disturbance at the holding cell!" Smith's voice cut in over the building's PA system and both women jolted in surprise. 

"Lead the way." Carolina pulled her pistol and nodded for Kimball to show her the way to the holding cell. She didn't know the layout of the building beyond the offices where she usually met with Kimball or her assistants. Following down two short corridors at a sprint winded her more than she'd care to admit and when they reached the holding cell Carolina was actually sure she was wheezing and hoped that no one could hear her through her helmet. 

It was all she could do to not rest against the wall when they got there but with the scene in front of them Carolina was fairly sure no one would have noticed if she did. 

Locus was on his knees with his hands behind his head making sure he didn't make a move that would cause any trigger happy shooting while a man lay unconscious on the ground in front of him with the broken apart pieces of a pistol scattered on the floor. "He should wake up shortly. It was a simple sleeper hold, there will be no lasting harm." 

"What did we say about your delivery Locus? Not very reassuring." Carolina frowned under he helmet as she looked to Smith. "What happened?"

"It was an assassination attempt. They broke open the lock and I believe they planned to shoot Locus but according to the cameras it didn't go as planned. He's telling the truth, the recording shows he put Corporal Tobey in a sleeper hold then dismantled his weapon." Smith was reviewing the footage on a datapad as he spoke and there was a grudging note of admiration for the efficiency despite his dislike of Locus. 

"He's not going to be safe here Vanessa. You'll either have to kill him or find something else to do with him." Carolina suspected if they looked into Corporal Tobey's background they would find a friend or family member...or several...that had died at the hands of the incarcerated mercenary. The problem was there were too many people like that on the planet and somehow they'd find a way in to kill Locus. She shouldn't care. Locus was a killer but he was trying to change and was she really any different than he was except on a matter of scale? She'd killed a lot of people following the orders of Project Freelancer after all. "I might have an idea what you can do with him until you decide what you're doing long term." 

Kimball looked at Carolina before she finally sighed and rubbed her forehead with her fingers like she was easing a sudden headache. "Why do I just know I am going to hate this idea?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it's not obvious the POV will be changing chapter by chapter in this. This is the first time I've tried this so hopefully it doesn't get too confusing...for me or the reader!


	3. Awakenings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will be a little short, it focuses on Wash and I debated and made about 14 different decisions on where to end it. I didn't want to add to it just to have length but it will pick up not long after when Wash's next chapter comes around. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's read and gave me kudos, I have been really nervous about posting since it's been so long since I've written and I have no one else editing and to be honest every time I post I am sure it's just crap so I don't look at the site forever lol.

It took a long time to wake up. 

Sometimes he would swim toward the surface of consciousness and linger there able to feel pain and hear the oddly disjointed and shattered conversations and sounds around him and sometimes he didn't quite make it that close to being fully aware but always he was sucked back down into the dark like he was being pulled by a heavy weight. 

Was this what it was like when Maine drowned? No, not Maine, he was dead before then. But what was the name of the monster that took his place? 

He couldn't remember. 

He couldn't remember who he was either. It felt like that should bother him but he was cushioned by the dark weight of the tides that kept pulling him under. They protected him while he floated and kept everything distant and calm.

When he did finally break through the surface tension between awake and not awake the dim lights around him stabbed at his eyes and made rainbows around them in shifting halos. It had to be night time because most of the lights were out and if the few that were on hurt this badly to see he was glad he hadn't opened his eyes while the others were on. 

There was a sharp stab of pain from his right arm and Wash could see someone leaning over him in his periphery. That arm wouldn't move but his left arm did and he caught a wrist and twisted it feeling something snap under his fingers and it elicited a sharp scream from whoever he'd caught. 

The triumph he felt for catching them trying whatever they were doing to him quickly turned to panic as hands closed on his arm and fingers to pry them open to let the person escape his grip. They had him, they were going to tie him down and give him medicine to make him sleep! He didn't want to sleep, he had to make sure they didn't do things to him while he was asleep!

"Wash! No, Wash, stop it's just a nurse. You're okay, I promise no one's going to hurt you." The voice was familiar, if only he could think through the shards that were slicing up his brain making all the lights into rainbows. "Tucker, I don't know if I'd make promises about Gray she's fucking scary." The second voice was slower and had a hint of an eye roll in it. Orange, that voice was orange. 

"Not fucking helping Grif!" There was a brief scuffle over him and the orange voice said 'ow' then there was only two hands holding his arm. "Wash you with us? You can't hurt the docs okay? They're just trying to help." He must be Wash. It was good to have a name even if he wasn't sure if it was really his or not but it gave him something to hold onto. 

Wash couldn't keep his eyes open. Everything was colors, orange and aqua, red and blue. He was surrounded by colors warm and cool at the same time and familiar. They wouldn't let anything happen to him. Exhausted he slipped back into sleep and this time he floated in a field of color instead of the deep darkness of before and he felt safe. 

The next time he woke up the rainbows were gone and the lights didn't hurt as badly as they had before. Things still jumped in and out of focus whenever he moved his eyes to look around the room and that made Wash's stomach lurch unpleasantly. There didn't seem to be anything in it to throw up so it was just a slow roll of nausea but he ended up squeezing his eyes shut again while waiting for it to straighten out again. 

"You are awake." Wash's eyes flew open at the deep voice of the person that seemed to just suddenly be there at his side. Had he drifted off or was the owner of that voice that quiet? _Keep an eye on your motion trackers, and watch your perimeters, look for a shimmer._ They could turn invisible. Wash didn't think this was who he remembered being invisible though. That one was bald, this face was dark skinned with an X shaped scar crossing it and intersecting just above the bridge of his nose. 

Something about the face made Wash tense and he wasn't sure why because there was also a voice in the back of his head that said he wasn't going to hurt him. Maybe it was the unhappy glare that was directed at someone Wash couldn't see that was followed by someone pointedly clearing their throat. "I have to give you pain medicine. I would appreciate if you didn't break my arm." There was a hypospray in the man's hand and he pointedly telegraphed each move he was making before he did it until he injected the pain medication and Wash felt his eyelids growing heavy almost immediately.

"I told you he could do it." Wash knew that voice too. Red and blue at the same time and there was a twitch at the corners of his mouth as he tried to smile. Carolina. For the first time a name came to him without a struggle and with a sigh Wash let himself fall under again knowing Carolina was there to watch over him.


	4. Uneasy Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Work travels kicked my behind so this one took a while. Also, I am crap at naming things. All the chapters have the dumbest names I'm sorry.

"Carolina, I can't believe you're suggesting this." Kimball sounded completely outraged and astonished. Her voice had cranked up half an octave while she was talking and there was a vein starting to throb in her forehead. A sure sign that she wanted to react even more than she was but Kimball was holding herself back.

Locus was just as taken aback at what Agent Carolina was suggesting but he wasn't in much of a position to protest since there were two rifles aimed at him where he was still on his knees on the floor of the cell. 

When he was attacked it was the best that he could come up with to disable the would be assassin and put himself in a surrender position before they came in. Locus wasn't sure at first if the assassin hadn't been sent by Kimball to take care of her sticky situation the easy way but she wasn't good enough to hide the surprise and irritation that someone had gone against her orders. She might loathe him but she would do things the right way. That was somewhat unfortunate because at least if it wasn't done the right and legal way it would be a quicker end. 

Locus did not do well with confinement. 

"Do you have any better ideas?" Carolina was calmly presenting her plan. Her absolutely insane plan. "You can't keep him here openly or this will happen again and again until they either kill Locus or someone else trying to get to him. We can't keep regular medical personnel with Wash while he's recovering and confused because he can and will hurt people without meaning to and I don't want him to have that guilt on him later. Locus knows field medicine and if we isolate him with our people and Wash in the hospital who would think to look for him there?" 

He wanted to know why she was doing this. Locus didn't think his bringing Agent Washington here would carry that much weight. Obviously if she was working this hard on keeping him safe he might be incorrect in his assumptions. 

Kimball turned to face him and that vein was still showing in her forehead and her body language screamed her desire to take the firearm at her side and fill him full of holes. She finally let out her breath in an angry sigh and pulled out a data pad to type in something. 

"Tell me why we should trust you. Why I shouldn't think the first thing you would do under the circumstances would be to kill the ones watching you and escape?" 

Kimball was watching him with narrowed eyes, obviously hating every moment of this conversation and being in his presence. Locus still wasn't sure why she was even there listening instead of simply ordering a swift death in public to appease her people's need for closure. To attempt to avoid provoking her to give into that temptation he was looking over Kimball's shoulder instead of directly at her so as not to appear challenging. "I do not ever expect to win trust. The most I could hope for would be tolerance...and I do not expect to get even that."

"I don't kill...anymore. For what it is worth I will give my word to remain and follow whatever restrictions are set on me." He glanced aside at Agent Carolina with a hint of exasperation showing through on his face. "Even if I am _not_ a nurse." The look she gave him in return was amused despite the circumstance.

"Is he telling the truth?" 

The question made Locus' attention jerk back to Kimball and he met her eyes directly in confusion. Was she asking Agent Carolina that? She no longer had the Epsilon AI so she couldn't read him other than through her own intuition. 

But other AI's could. The large alien AI from the temples manifested beside Kimball to look down at Locus. _"He is telling the truth. And his fears are different than they were before. Do you wish to know what he fears?"_

"Later, Santa." Kimball nodded to the AI and put her datapad away. "Fine. We will let him try. Wash broke the arm of someone trying to check his IV this morning. I don't understand how you think he will trust Locus enough to touch him while he's injured and vulnerable but we'll let him try. If...and I can't stress that enough, IF he is able to do it we will have safeguards added. He can't just roam around the hospital no matter what he says." 

"Agreed." Agent Carolina gestured to Locus to get to his feet. "Come on. Let's get you secured and let you give this a try." 

Locus got to his feet with slow and and controlled movements. He didn't feel like making one of the people holding a rifle on him nervous enough to shoot. His knees ached from being on the concrete floor for as long as he had but Locus refused to limp or hesitate and show weakness in front of them. As he walked it worked out the aches and stiffness so by the time he and Agent Carolina made it to a side entrance of the hospital it was no longer an act that he was moving easily. 

Doctor Grey met them just inside the door with a scalpal in hand, with its cover on at least, ready to apparently start dissecting him if he moved or said something in a way she didn't like. Apparently being 'secured' involved being fitted with a subdermal tracker by the good doctor as well as having to wear a device that would set off alarms if he wandered out of the area he was allowed to be in on one arm that Sarge had made. 

"Now, I think we finally fixed the problem with stray radio transmissions setting off the charge but you might want to stay away from the dispatch area just in case." Sarge laughed and clapped him on the shoulder after he locked the cuff on Locus' wrist. 

Surely he was kidding. Then again... "Please tell me that was a joke." Locus' only answer was a grin and a thumbs up from the older soldier as he packed up his tools to leave. It wasn't like he could jump up to follow him because Doctor Grey was finishing adding dermal glue and closing the small incision she'd made, without anesthesia, to insert the tracker over his left shoulder blade. "Agent Carolina, did he just put a bomb on my arm?"

Carolina looked like she was holding onto being upright with her fingernails and teeth. Obviously the woman hadn't rested or had medical treatment since he freed them from armor lock. She still managed to roll her eyes. "No, he didn't. Don't get me wrong that was his initial idea but we pointed out that would be bad in a hospital." The speculative look she shot after Sarge did not inspire confidence that she was sure she knew what exactly Sarge had done. There was starting to be a hollow pit in Locus' stomach wondering what else the Reds and Blues would come up with and if they were going to accidentally kill him. 

"There you go. Wired in correctly so we will know where you are and if you are in trouble." The small doctor slapped on a bandage harder than necessary causing a jolt of pain that made Locus frown and he sidled away from her to put his shirt back on and to also get out of her immediate reach. "If you remove it, I will be happy to put it inside your skull next time so you can't reach it. Now Agent Washington should be waking up very soon and he will need his IV line flushed and to be given his dose of pain medication. If you would just hop to so we can watch and make sure you know what you're doing so I can move on to my next patient, wouldn't you agree Agent Carolina?" 

The redhead just looked resigned, knowing that she was going to have to give in and take care of herself. All she did was nod her head to the side to show what door they were going through and led the way. 

Locus had expected for there to be more people waiting with Agent Washington but when they walked in there was only one other person, Captain Tucker, who was still in his armor with his helmet off. When he saw Locus his jaw clenched and he shot a look at Agent Carolina. Whatever look or signal she gave him didn't make the man any happier but he let out a long breath through his nose and backed up a step so Locus could approach. 

Waiting for Washington to wake up was obviously going to be full of tension. Ignoring the others as best he could and keeping his face as blank as he could Locus stood by the bed and studied the man he'd brought in on the edge of death. They'd obviously rehydrated him judging by the better color and his skin no longer looking like it would tear if he moved wrong but there were still dark shadows under his eyes and those gaunt hollows in his face that couldn't be filled out by just giving him enough liquids. He looked like those days in armor lock had aged him years. 

It wasn't right. Even if you hated the people you were fighting Locus had always believed you needed to kill them quickly and cleanly and move on. What Temple had done made his insides twist with disgust. He realized he wasn't doing a very good job at keeping his expression under control so to cover Locus picked up the saline syringe and screwed it into the IV port to flush it and make sure it was kept clear. Making sure his movements were precise and controlled helped him to control his thoughts and that made his frown into one of concentration.

Maybe it was because it was time for the medication to wear off or maybe because there was someone touching him Washington's brows drew down and he took several longer breaths before his eyes opened and he looked around the room. It was obvious he wasn't seeing very clearly with the unfocused look and the way he squinted as if he was looking at things very far away. He made a quiet sound while squeezing his eyes shut and Locus could see the movement as he swallowed several times like he might be sick. He waited for the color to come back into his skin before he spoke to give the man's stomach time to settle. 

"You are awake." Locus flinched slightly as Washington's gray eyes were startled open at the sound of his voice and the man pushed himself back into the bed like he was trying to get away. This time his eyes were focused, and they were focused on Locus. At first everything he saw was exactly what Locus expected. Fear and suspicion, the man was so tense if he touched him Locus expected him to be vibrating under his hand like a live wire. 

Someone took Locus' wrist and pushed the hypospray into it. Captain Tucker obviously felt like he wasn't giving medication quickly enough and after Locus glared at him and pulled his arm out of Tucker's grip he turned back to Washington to see that the fear and suspicion were gone. They were replaced by that same weary resignation he'd seen on A'rynasea. For a moment Locus felt a sharp sting of worry thinking that somehow this time the Freelancer had been broken by the things he had been put through. He wasn't sure why the idea of Agent Washington being broken made his mouth go dry in fear. That was something better left unexamined for now. Or possibly forever. An impatient clearing of the throat from Doctor Grey helped him to focus on what he was supposed to be doing and he lifted the hypospray so Washington could see it. 

"I have to give you pain medicine. I would appreciate if you didn't break my arm." Locus moved slowly and indicated what he was doing before he actually did it to keep himself from accidentally surprising Washington. The man followed all of his movements with his eyes but stayed relaxed and let Locus put the injector to his arm to deliver the pain killer. 

"I told you he could do it." Agent Carolina sounded smug. At the sound of her voice Washington's mouth had almost made it to a smile but he'd slipped back into sleep almost as soon as the medication hit his bloodstream. 

Doctor Grey was right there to take the hypospray from his hand and dropped it into a pocket to take with her. "Oh I knew you were probably right. But making you fight for it made you agree to come be looked at didn't it?" She smiled and crossed her arms looking at Carolina. "So now you come with me and we'll get you fixed right up and let you sleep. I'm sure Captain Tucker will be happy to keep an eye on things in here." 

If she'd thought that the doctor would forget about her Carolina should have known better. Locus could have told her that Doctor Grey did not forget anything. She had been the hardest person in the Federal army to keep in the dark on what he and Felix were doing because of it. It was obvious that the female freelancer wanted to argue and stay where she was but when the doctor started tapping her foot she rubbed a weary hand over her face and gave in.

"Locus." On her way to the door she stopped beside him and started to reach out to touch his arm before she apparently realized what she was doing and clenched her fingers as she drew her hand back. 

He'd watched her motions, wondering if she was actually going to touch him or not, and wasn't surprised when she stopped herself. "I gave my word. I will follow all instructions and restrictions I am given." 

"Well I was going to go with 'thank you' but I'll take that for now." Carolina looked over at Tucker who waved her off with a tired 'yeah, yeah I've got it' gesture before she nodded at Locus and left before the tiny doctor could get tired of waiting and grab her by the elbow and steer her out.

"Do you plan of standing there all day? Sit the fuck down dude, don't hover." And now he was left alone with only Captain Tucker to watch over Agent Washington. Locus was still irritated at the sim trooper for starting a fight that they didn't have to have. There wouldn't have been any injuries and he wouldn't currently be a prisoner here on Chorus if it wasn't for his impulsive arrogance. He pointedly sat in the chair furthest away from Tucker as he could without saying anything. 

They didn't need to speak to each other for him to do what he was supposed to be doing. Locus was there to help guard and treat Washington. No complicated medicine of course but only the people the man would tolerate near him would be allowed to do so much as come within five feet of his bed to avoid any more injuries. Locus was used to spending long stretches of time aboard his ship in complete silence other than the monitoring of radio frequencies for information or distress calls so he was content to wait and listen to the noises of the machines.

"Oh this is going to be fun." Of course he'd failed to consider that none of the Reds or Blues were capable of not talking. "You're going to be even more dramatic than Wash I bet. You know you weren't supposed to get caught, how the hell did they catch you anyway? They didn't la...I mean you have your camo unit and that ship and...well you just weren't supposed to get caught." 

The quick change of what Tucker was going to say caught his attention. "What did you mean 'this time'? Back on Temple's base you said to fly faster 'this time'. What did that mean?" 

Tucker's mouth opened, then closed, he groaned and rubbed both hands over his face before he shook his head. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you. And if I don't let Carolina make the call on that she'll start running drills with me again and you would not believe how fucking bad it is when she runs drills with you." Tucker made a face and slouched down in his chair looking over at Washington. Locus could see the guilt in his expression for the shape the Freelancer was in. 

"Anyway, I don't like you. But I don't have to like you to work with you, and you got caught because you were helping Wash. Which you didn't have to do, you could have done just about anything after you took off with him but you didn't." Locus watched Tucker fidget and glance between himself and Washington like he was struggling with something. 

"It was the right thing to do." Locus wasn't sure where the sim trooper was going with this but he threw that out to try to get him to stop. He didn't want to be trapped in this room trying to fill time with awkward conversations. 

Locus was fairly sure that Tucker screamed under his breath when he put his face in his hands. "Jesus all of you, so fucking dramatic. Look I'm just trying to say sorry or some shit about you getting caught okay? Fuck it, just do your bad guy stare at nothing bullshit and I'm going to read or something." The sim trooper made an irritated show of gathering a stack of magazines and bringing them back to where he was sitting before he opened one to start flipping through. There was still a steady sound of muttering under Tucker's breath even when he was reading. 

Being snapped at had been a surprise. There had been obvious heat behind it as if Locus had actually hurt his feelings with what he said. He didn't understand that but slowly it dawned on him that the sim trooper had genuinely been sorry for the situation. Why he should care that a monster like himself be captured wasn't something he understood but brushing off the apology had been the wrong thing to do. For some reason Tucker genuinely cared that Locus had been captured. 

"Thank you." Locus said it to the wall, not to Tucker, but even from the corner of his eye he could see the angry tension ease from Tucker's shoulders. 

"Yeah, whatever. Here." When he looked over the sim trooper was holding out a magazine to him. After a brief hesitation Locus took the offering and they both sat in their chairs to pretend to read. It was an odd and tentative peace that settled between himself and the sim trooper and it felt like it could be broken very easily.

But it was a start of something that maybe wouldn't be broken so easily in the future.

Assuming he had a future.


	5. Taking Care

Waking up hadn't been a pleasant thing. 

Doctor Grey had given her a hell of a lecture about the way she'd abused herself after being in armor lock in Temple's base. She should have taken time to re-hydrate, to get some nutrients into herself, to actually sleep...all the things she didn't have time to do if they were going to stop Loco's crazy machine from destroying everything. 

Little did the doctor know that since they knew where to go and what to do that the battle had been a lot easier on her this time. Easier hadn't kept her from being so exhausted she'd pretty much fallen asleep on her feet while Grey was lecturing her. The sting of the IV being hooked up so they could run fluids brought her back and left Carolina blinking at a nurse who looked decidedly nervous at sticking one of the Freelancers with a needle but when nothing happened other than Carolina frowning at her arm the woman offered a sympathetic smile and a pat on her shoulder before leaving her with Grey.

"You're going to lay here and sleep until you wake up on your own. If you try to leave before you sleep and before I can check you over after you wake up I will track you down and you will not enjoy it." It was so much worse to be threatened when it was done in such a cheerful tone. 

She wasn't happy about the idea. Carolina didn't want to be out of commission with Locus here. This was her idea and she wanted to watch him to make sure nothing happened...even though she was the one that argued for it she still didn't trust him. But she was so tired it felt like even her bones were bruised. "I should..." 

"If you say you should do anything other than sleep I'm going to actually drug you." This time the cheerful tone was barely covering the steel underneath as Doctor Grey pinned her with a look that might have even made a Sangheli back up. "So, let's forget you were going to say something hmm?"

Carolina lived for a challenge and she came by the stubborn streak a mile wide honestly but one look at the expression on Grey's face reminded her of listening to a space pirate scream in utter terror when Carolina's best efforts hadn't been able to budge him and she shuddered slightly. "Fine. But if anything happens with Wash you need to wake me up. Please." 

The hard glare from the doctor softened as she helped Carolina lie down on the bed without getting the IV line tangled in anything. "Of course I will. But he'll be fine while you sleep." Carolina was barely aware of the soft blanket being tucked in around her. She probably could have slept in full armor on a pile of rocks right now without noticing. The last thing she was really aware of was Grey tucking a lock of her hair away from her face and patting her shoulder gently.

_________

"Geez Carolina, trying for something new on the style thing?" When she'd finally woken up, been cleared by Doctor Grey (as long as she promised to go straight to the cafeteria and get something to eat) and dressed in something other than her armor's undersuit, Carolina had headed to get something to eat. Everything hurt. Walking and moving made her feel like her joints were full of rusty gears and she still had the dull headache she'd had since she'd woken up when she dropped her tray on the table where the Red team sat. The resulting clash of the plastic tray on the cheap laminate table made her wince but she didn't bother to apologize for the way the entire table jumped at the noise. 

Grif's question confused her enough she almost missed slapping his hand when he tried to take the muffin she'd stuck on her tray. He yelped and snatched his hand back, shaking it with a frown for the way it stung. "What are you talking about. I've worn this sweatshirt before." 

"Um...I think he might be talking about your hair." Simmons pointed at her head before he ducked his own back down to concentrate on his food but still managed to sneak another couple of glances at her like he was afraid to be caught staring. 

Carolina lifted a hand to her hair and realized she'd managed to never brush it, or apparently even look at it, after she woke up. What met her fingers could probably only be described as a rat's nest of epic proportions. How on earth had it ended up like that when she was fairly sure she'd never moved once Doctor Grey got her settled in? With a sigh she ended up slapping Grif's fingers again when he made another move for her muffin. "Look if you steal my food you're going to answer to Doctor Grey for making me not following orders about eating. Do you really want to do that?" 

Sarge grinned while Grif visibly gulped at the idea and scooted away to get himself further from temptation. "No, go on Grif. I want to see what the little doctor will do to you. I'm sure I can pick up some pointers from watching her." Luckily the orange sim trooper decided to settle for rolling his eyes and ignoring Sarge because Carolina didn't have the energy to put up with a full on bickering session yet. 

Instead, to try to keep herself from being drawn into any more shenanigans, she concentrated on her food. There wasn't anything spicy or too hard to digest, yogurt, a little fruit and the muffin along with orange juice...or the Chorus equivalent of it. It might taste like orange juice but it was purple in the glass. After so long without eating her stomach didn't appreciate solid food so she was taking very small bites and waiting in between each one to make sure nothing bad was going to happen. 

"Carolina?" She'd been concentrating on eating so she'd missed the first time her name was said. Seeing the look on Simmon's face she wondered if she'd missed hearing her name more than once. "Are you..." He snapped his mouth shut and he glanced around them at the other tables. "...um is it a good idea what we're doing?" 

There were other people in the cafeteria so Carolina just shook her head. "Let's talk about it later. I want to see Wash and check in." She made a face and almost touched her hair again. "And maybe find a brush. Let's meet up later this morning in Wash's section." 

And they were all staring at her again so she put down the muffin she'd been tearing into small bits with a sigh. "What?"

"Hey, don't kill the messenger but it's five. As in five in the afternoon." Grif was smirking at her and nudging Simmons with his elbow. Fuck. Now she was wondering if she even knew what day it was anymore. She'd have to check that as soon as she was done eating so she didn't end up with any more surprises. 

Sarge patted her on the shoulder as he got up to take his tray back. "Don't worry missy, it happens to the best of us. You get used to losing a little time here and there." 

"Yeah okay she didn't lose time because she's going senile and over the hill she lost time because she stayed up several days straight while being kept prisoner. You really don't have that much in common." Grif scoffed at Sarge then ducked when the older red took a swipe at his head with a growl. "Shut up Grif!" 

Simmons shifted his chair further away from them in case Sarge decided to tackle Grif off of his chair and closer to Carolina to try to take advantage of her cover. "Anyway, Donut was looking for you so maybe he'll help you with that brush issue." 

The little bit of food she'd eaten already sat in Carolina's stomach like a somewhat sloshy rock. Her stomach didn't seem up to taking in any more than the little bit of yogurt and few bites of muffin she'd already eaten so she took her orange juice and slid the tray over to Grif to distract him from his argument with Sarge. She remembered recovery from starvation from the last time and knew as sick as she felt at the moment in about a half an hour her body would be ravenously hungry again making her eat a dozen or so tiny meals a day until it was used to it again. She would stock up on some packs of things she could carry with her for now. 

"Thanks Simmons." The maroon sim trooper brightened when she thanked him making her shake her head a little. Usually that level of happiness at a compliment was reserved for Wash or Sarge. "I'll go check in with Donut. Make sure that someone checks in with Tucker and Caboose until I can get there will you?" If she was going to see Donut with her hair looking like it did there was no chance it would be a quick conversation. He was going to take one look at her and pull out the big guns of hair care she was sure. 

"Um." Simmons looked around the room nervously again then cleared his throat and nodded. "Yeah, okay we'll check on them." Checking on the Blues meant checking on Locus and the mercenary made Simmons _very_ nervous. He'd probably end up taking Grif with him and end up getting half of them kicked out for making too much of a ruckus in Wash's room. 

Since she'd given Grif the rest of her tray Carolina got up from the table, making a face for the feel of moving again, and headed out of the cafeteria to head to Donut's quarters. They'd moved Wash to a regular room instead of one of the hospital rooms and just moved the equipment they needed into it so he could be surrounded by everyone on his team. The official reason given was the injuries he'd caused to the medics. This way he was removed from their rotation and the only people that would go into his room aside from Carolina and the Reds and Blues was Doctor Grey. They were able to basically close off the entire wing of rooms and that made it easier to keep Locus out of sight under lock down for now. She knocked on Donut's door with her usual two sharp raps. "You in there Donut?" 

"Oh she finally is awake!" Donut opened the door only a few seconds after she knocked with a welcoming smile on his face that froze as he blinked and looked at her hair. "...what on Earth did you do to yourself Carolina?" The hand that grabbed her wrist and dragged her into Donut's quarters did NOT make her squeak in surprise. Carolina will swear that on her deathbed thank you. Big bad Freelancers do not make undignified squeaking noises. Donut didn't pay any attention to the noise she made that _wasn't_ a squeak, he just pulled her over to make her sit down on his bed and pulled out a wide toothed comb so he could sit behind her and start picking the tangles out.

Carolina would never admit it but she loved the attention to her hair. There was something comforting about it and it let her feel secure enough to pull her legs up to sit with her knees pulled up in front of her with her arms wrapped loosely around them. She didn't remember if her mother ever did this for her. Her father sure as hell hadn't. York would brush her hair every once in a while when she was too tired from a mission but the time she remembered best was North combing out and braiding her hair while they waited to see if York would be okay after the grenade in the training room. North could make anyone feel comfortable. 

She let the silence stretch out while he teased the knots out of her hair. It was a comfortable silence for once, there wasn't any feel from Donut that she had to immediately get to what she wanted so she just let him work on her hair while she closed her eyes and just enjoyed letting someone do something for her before she said anything. "I'm glad you're still here. I know you want to travel for a while but I'd hate for you to go before Wash wakes up." 

Donut, despite his reputation, was happy to just hum under his breath and work on Carolina's hair until she spoke. She could tell the difference once she started the conversation and he shifted to sit up a little straighter but didn't stop working on her hair. "Well I wouldn't think of pulling out until Wash was...oops I was about to do it again." He chuckled lightly and Carolina could feel him shrug at the near miss on the innuendo. "I wouldn't leave without saying goodbye." 

She could feel her shoulders starting to tense up until Donut sighed and tapped them with the comb. "Stop that. I wasn't trying to make you feel bad for the past I just want to make sure that Wash doesn't backslide into that whole guilty about shooting me thing. If I don't see him before I go he'll probably use that as a reason to doubt what he remembers and then we'll have to start over at first base." 

That was probably a valid worry. Carolina loved Wash but he was the absolute worst at forgiving himself for anything. She realized she was throwing stones on that from her own glass house but she liked to think she was at least a little better at it than Wash was. 

"I know he'll be happy you waited." She took a deep breath and forced her shoulders relax again. "Donut..." Carolina carefully pulled her hair out of his hands so she could turn around to look at him. The knots were out now so all he'd been doing was combing it to keep her relaxed. 

"Yes, we're doing the right thing." Donut flashed a smile at her when Carolina just looked at him with her mouth half open to ask her question. They _really_ needed to stop doing this to her today when she just couldn't keep up with it. "That's what you were going to ask right? If we were doing the right thing with Locus? Well, we are." 

"Okay...well you know what Kimball and the rest of Chorus is going to say. And he did kill a lot of people, and was going to kill a lot more." But even as she presented the arguments that would be used by others what Carolina saw in her memories wasn't Locus killing, it was the way he'd looked off to the side away from the Purge when Wash told him they could walk away. 

Until Felix had put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back in. 

She knew what it was like to follow orders without questioning. Carolina might not have killed as many people as Locus and Felix had but she'd blindly let herself do what Freelancer had asked of her. Could she honestly say if her dad had told her to help wipe out a planet full of people at the right time of her freelancer days that she wouldn't have done it? She'd like to think that wasn't the case but she would never be able to say for sure.

"Well, true. And they are right he did kill a lot of people. But he wants to be better. Shouldn't he get a chance to try to make things right? You and Wash did." Chorus treated them differently because they had done their crimes elsewhere but they really wore a lot of the same scars that Locus did. Donut reached into a little basket on a table by his bed and gave her a handful of those little miniature chocolates he liked to give people during his wine and cheese hours and Carolina let out a soft huff of amusement for being not so subtly mothered before she unwrapped one to eat. 

"Caboose is already trying to make him a Blue and Grif is arguing he should be a Red so I'm not sure you get to change you mind on helping him." Donut ignored Carolina choking on the chocolate he'd just given her and shook his finger at her. "And don't tell me you didn't think that would happen." 

When she could breath again without inhaling chocolate Carolina groaned and put her face in her hands. "I don't think I have the energy for this." She didn't remember it feeling so much like rolling a boulder up a hill last time they were here. Hopefully, unlike the story, that boulder wouldn't slip and crush her on its way back down the hill. 

"That's it, I'm ordering you to take the night off." Donut reached over to pull her hands away from her face and he made the exaggerated 'I'm serious' expression at her so she'd know he wasn't joking. "You need a shower, and a deep conditioning I might add. Then you can see Wash but no talking business until morning." 

Carolina really wanted to argue. There wasn't time to take a night off while they had to figure out what to do with Locus and figure out a way through the political issues that were going to pop up before they knew it. She wanted to get a head start on all of that but the idea of a long shower and that handful of chocolate was very tempting. It was already early evening was it realistic to think they could get a lot done knowing she'd still have to track down all the others to get them into one place?

"I have a counter proposal. I think you'll find it acceptable." She deliberately took another bite of chocolate to show Donut she was treating herself. 

"I'm absolutely quivering with anticipa...I mean I'm listening." 

"I will take the shower. We will do the deep conditioning later. Then while I check on Wash you can help me by gathering the others in the lounge to watch a movie so I can get them all in one place and you will let me talk business as long as I eat whatever I can and we all watch a movie afterward." She ticked off the points on her fingers as they came up.

"Hmm. Interesting. My counter-counter proposal is I find all of that acceptable. As long as when we watch the movie Locus is invited. We'll be right outside of Wash's room so we can leave the door open and keep an eye on him that way." Donut crossed his arms and looked at her obviously expecting her to argue but Carolina knew a losing battle when she saw one.

"Make sure Tucker isn't allowed to pick Resevoir Dogs and you have a deal." She held out a hand to Donut who promptly shook it with his face breaking into a dimpled smile. "All right, we both have our objectives. I will see you later in the lounge." Carolina scooped up the other pieces of chocolate he had given her to eat on the way to the showers and left before she got too stiff to move from sitting so long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man for some reason this chapter kicked my behind. I blame Donut. For some reason I really struggled with this one but since the next chapter was partially cut from the third chapter it should happen a lot faster.


	6. Been here before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone reading and leaving kudos, it's kept me going even when I look at things and swear it is the worst piece of writing ever!
> 
> Still no beta so all mistakes and rambling too many dialog pieces are all me. I do promise outside of all of this set up there will be more action or at least not being in the hospital, I just apparently can't write a chapter with less than 3000 words very often!

Waking felt different this time. Wash still saw double and things swam in and out of focus but not as violently as they had before and it didn't make him feel sick. There was a distant thumping in his skull but this time his headache was just a headache, it didn't feel like his thoughts were turning into razors and piercing him anymore which was a blessing. He just wished he could see correctly.

Blinking and squinting made some of the shapes in the room come into focus and Wash tried to raise his hands to rub his eyes and see if it would help but neither one seemed to be working right. 

Turning his head showed that his left arm was bandaged to hold an IV and some sensor wires, presumably to keep them in place, and those were tangled a little in the bedding which was why he hadn't gotten very far with lifting it. Wash tried to lift his right arm to help untangle things but nothing happened. He turned his head the other direction to look at his right arm and saw there wasn't anything holding his arm down. It just didn't seem to want to listen to him when he tried to move it. Instead the best he got out of it was a spasmodic jerk of his fingers and wrist. 

Whatever he'd done to himself this time he'd obviously really fucked himself up. Giving up on his arms for the moment Wash had to settle for squinting and looking around the room. He knew the person stretched out across three chairs with his feet hanging off the end. This time a name came with the figure and not just a sense of color. Tucker was sleeping with the hood of his teal sweatshirt pulled up covering his dreads and half of his face, hands tucked into the sleeves like he was cold. 

He also remembered the person in the set of chairs next to the ones Tucker was sleeping on. He wore a blue t-shirt, jeans and had a tiny attack robot in his arms with his mop of brown curls looking like he hadn't bothered to brush them since he'd last taken off his helmet. Caboose was sound asleep with his head tipped against the shoulder of someone almost as big as he was and his somewhat indelicate snores were probably ringing in their right ear. This was the man from the last time Wash woke up. The scar crossing his face was hard to miss. He was holding himself rigid like if he moved he might explode. Wash didn't really need to see the irritated frown on the man's face to tell he didn't want to be here. 

_You don't get to rest, Agent Washington. Not yet._

He had no idea what the voice in his memory meant but he knew the voice went to the man with the scar. It was the same voice from the last time he woke up saying he'd appreciate it if he didn't break his arm. It was the same as the one that had floated out of his memory without the slight distortion of the helmet speakers. Agent Washington. Washington, Wash. This time the name snapped back into place in his memory with actual meaning. It wasn't just the name he claimed because he didn't have a memory of another. David, Washington, Wash. he knew who he was even if he didn't remember why he was hurt yet. 

As badly as he was hurt Wash knew he might not get that memory back. He had never gotten back more than pieces of the crash of the Mother of Invention. Hopefully someone could tell him what happened and why he and his team were sitting in a hospital room with one of their worst enemies. 

And why he trusted that enemy. Because Wash really wanted to know the answer to that.

"Locus?" Wash's voice was a painfully harsh whisper and he immediately regretting his choice to say anything. It felt like he'd set his throat on fire.

The scarred face turned toward him and Caboose was nudged off of Locus' shoulder so he could stand up. Somehow Wash had never imagined that under his armor Locus had long hair. He would have guessed military short hair that was kept ruthlessly neat. At the same time he remembered his face without the helmet and the hair was in a ponytail. Remembering and not remembering him without his helmet on made Wash's head hurt worse. 

Wash closed his eyes and waited for the pain to fade. It also kept him from having to readjust his focus every step Locus got closer. "Drink." 

Wash opened his eyes again and there was a glass of water with a straw held out to him. Locus holding out something for him to drink in a hospital like he was trying to help him just struck him funny for whatever reason. Locus' sour expression didn't help. He looked like someone being asked to help with a gun to his head. A quick bark of laughter escaped him but the pain turned it into a cough, which in turn caused everything to hurt worse and Wash ended up breathing in shallow pants while his eyes watered until the desire to cough faded. 

Locus' expression hadn't lost the pinched frown while he was waiting but the way his brows lowered and his eyes flicked to the machines hooked up to Wash it was obvious that he was concerned. The thing about being surrounded by people who wore helmets all day long was you got really good at reading body language without seeing an expression. The other thing about wearing a helmet all day long was you became absolutely shit at hiding what you were thinking once the shielding was removed. Wash had learned how to sleep in the damn thing after Epsilon so he wouldn't accidentally give things away. For so long after Sidewinder going without his helmet had made him feel like an exposed nerve. 

At least until he found that instead of being surrounded by people he had to worry about stabbing him in the back he was actually part a group of idiots that had became his family, people that he finally felt safe around. Now there were days where the armor that used to be a second skin for him to hide behind was uncomfortably foreign. Maybe someday he'd never wear it again at all. 

Somehow, the coughing didn't wake up Tucker. Caboose could sleep through just about anything so Wash knew he would probably stay there snoring until he was ready to wake up. Tucker tended to sleep lightly (mainly to avoid Caboose doing something like adding mustard to his sheets while he was in them) so he must be exhausted to have slept through all the noise. 

"Slow." Once he was able to take a full breath again the straw was put up where Wash could take a drink. It was probably lukewarm water that had been in a plastic cup for who knows how long but it was still the best thing that Wash had ever tasted. Even after he obviously had been given fluids, since his attached IV line was tangled keeping his arm from moving without chancing ripping it out, but the water almost felt like he was absorbing it straight through the tissues in his mouth and it cooled the fire in his throat.

And it was taken away after only a couple of sips making him let out a disappointed noise. It wasn't a whimper, he would swear that to his dying day thank you. He was a battle hardened soldier so he didn't whimper. Wash licked his lips trying to get any remaining moisture and even though he hadn't thought it was possible for Locus to frown any more he was obviously wrong. There was a deep crease in between his brows and the plastic cup of water with the straw was put down hard enough on the little rolling hospital tray table that it sloshed some of the contents in a small spray around it. 

Wash really wanted to ask what the hell that was for but there were too many syllables in the question and he wasn't ready to try it yet. Instead he looked at his left arm and the tube caught in the blankets. "Help?" A quick tug of his arm when Locus followed where his gaze went showed the problem Wash was having moving his arm. 

Locus' frown eased a little and he leaned over Wash to get the sheet away from the IV line so his arm would be able to move freely again. It only took a few seconds but while he was leaning over his hair swung forward and Wash found his nose and cheek tickled by the strands and the spicy smell of whatever he was using to wash it. There was something familiar about it, the smell not the feel of Locus' hair in his face, and all he wanted to do was close his eyes and breathe it in until part of his mind reminded him that this was _Locus_ who had tried to kill him and the others multiple times. It sent a little jolt of panic through him and he let out a huff of air that flipped the hair off his face as he tried to press himself back into the bed to move away.

The ex-mercenary flinched away like he'd been burned and moved back a few steps before giving Wash a startled look. He realized his panicked breath must have something like Wash blowing in the other man's ear and he could feel the heat starting to creep up his face. Damn it, he didn't whimper and he didn't blush. Except he did blush and it was part of the reason aside from not liking to get shot in the back that he preferred to wear his helmet. If people couldn't see you blush it made it easier to keep your reputation as a hard ass. 

Locus' brows were starting to come back down sharply as the surprise wore off. Now that his hand was free Wash lifted it to rub his nose and he found himself smiling sheepishly. "Sorry. Tickled." He wanted to defuse the situation but he wasn't even sure what he was defusing or why it really mattered. He wasn't sure why the mercenary was here, what exactly had happened to him or what was going to happen an hour from now. It was all he could do to keep up with what was going on right in front of him. He was pleased that the ache in his arm that he could move didn't seem to be anything more than the normal feel of muscles that hadn't been used enough and nothing more. But he still couldn't get much out of his right side and Wash was starting to worry about that. 

Locus' frown was still there but it had backed away from that level where both eyebrows met in the middle and with a quick nod he pushed his hair behind his ears with a jerky motion like he wasn't used to doing it. Which, of course he wasn't used to it, the man probably normally wore his helmet more than Wash had himself at the height of his paranoia. 

And why did he remember him without his helmet and blood just everywhere?

"What the hell are you two doing?" Tucker's voice was thick with sleep but there was a smile on his face as he yawned and rubbed his face to help him wake up as he pushed himself up off the chairs to see what was going on. He stopped by Caboose and hearing the steady snores rolled his eyes and shook his head but Wash could see the fondness on his face for his sleeping teammate despite that. He'd make a rude noise and deny it if you called him on it of course. "You look like you both got caught with your hands in the cookie jar or some shit." 

Tucker slapped Locus on the shoulder with a sleepy grin then flinched away with a look of alarm when the ex mercenary whipped his head to the side to look at him with narrowed eyes. "Jesus, still fucking scary. Go get something to eat or something I'll take care of things for a little bit." He waved Locus off but still edged around him like the ex mercenary might snap and murder him on a whim. Which other than the murder part, since Locus had sworn off killing, probably wasn't that bad of a thing to be wary of. Wash watched as Tucker waited out the bland stare from Locus before the ex mercenary finally turned to leave the room.

"It's okay, Sarge is usually waiting on there on the off chance Locus might try to make a grand escape so he can try to shoot him. Except I think he's got some sort of weird weirdos stand together friendship goal going on...it's actually kind of disturbing. He'll keep him company until someone sends him back here." Tucker came and hovered near the side of the bed and glanced over at Caboose but he seemed satisfied that the other Blue was still snoring. 

"Do you remember what happened?" 

Did he remember? Wash tried to think about it but every time he thought he was catching a glimpse of something that happened it seemed to shatter and make his head hurt. Images flitted through his mind's eye but nothing made any sense and all that happened is a headache pounded behind his eyes the harder he tried to think about it. Giving up on it he started to shake his head but that sent another stab of of pain through his throat and this time he lifted his working hand to feel his neck. The thick bandage his fingers met was a surprise. "Shot?" 

"Yeah, you were shot. For the second time." Tucker's expression was hard to read. At first Wash thought it was disappointment but when his eyes stayed focused on the bandage his eyes were haunted and distant. Wash automatically tried to reach out with his other hand to get his friend's attention and this time actually managed to get it a few inches off of the bed before his muscles gave up and went into random spasms instead of controlled movement. He let out a soft growl of frustration that pulled Tucker's attention away from his neck and whatever he was remembering.

Tucker pulled his hand away from the bandage with a quick grimace. "Look, don't poke it. If you break a stitch Grey will be pissed." If other people had grabbed his wrist like that Wash knew his reaction wouldn't have been pretty but Tucker and the others were safe from him. There had been a long time when they first took him home from Sidewinder that he'd worried he'd hurt them accidentally but even waking him out of a nightmare part of Wash had known it was them and eventually he'd stopped worrying about it. He hadn't even thought about it as Tucker put his arm back down by his side so he wouldn't be tempted to poke at the bandage again.

But Wash felt a shock go down him like he'd been dipped in ice water when he realized they wouldn't have let Locus be there if they were worried how he would react to him in the room. Locus had given him water, and Wash was pretty sure that he had heard him talking to him before asking him not to break his arm. Somewhere, somehow he had started to trust Locus. And he didn't just trust him, he trusted him like he trusted his team. 

He just didn't want to think about that right now. "Other arm?" Wash didn't make the mistake of trying to turn his head again but he flicked his gaze toward his right side before looking back at Tucker. The lack of control and the fact his muscles were still twitching after he'd managed to lift it a few inches was something he'd never experienced before.

"Okay Grey will have to explain all the bullshit medical terms but it'll get better." Tucker started to sit on the side of the bed then apparently changed his mind and reached behind him to pull one of the chairs up to the side of the bed so he could sit down without jostling Wash. "Look, Carolina said if you asked to tell you things okay? So you tell me when you want me to stop telling you things." 

Maybe it was worse than he thought. Wash didn't care, he wanted to know so he gave the slightest of nods. "Tell me." 

"You're fucking lucky to be alive dude. You took a round through the neck, you did your best to bleed out on the trip to Chorus and your brain went without oxygen for a couple of minutes and that's why your right side isn't working right now. It'll come back though, just you'll need like physical therapy or some shit. And it isn't going to be like overnight." It was said Tucker style but without a lot of emotion other than that haunted look that was still in his eyes and the way his gaze kept flicking away from Wash's when he was talking. He really wanted to ask him what was wrong but he was also distracted by feeling like he wasn't hearing all of this for the first time. It was like he'd hear it just a split second before Tucker said it but it was confusing because it wasn't exactly the same, just close enough it was very distracting. 

"Not...surprised." Wash started to lift his good hand to his neck again but Tucker grabbed it before he got it very far off the bed with a sigh that was clearly exasperated and pushed it back down again. "Why?" 

"You aren't surprised because we've done it before. You've done it before." Tucker just kept his hand on Wash's arm this time. It was probably a preemptive move to keep him from poking at his neck. "It's a shitty deal and I know you hate hospitals but as soon as Grey says you're okay to move we'll take you back to Iris then you just have to come here for therapy and shit. 

"Locus." Wash had seen a shift in movement behind Tucker and saw the ex mercenary standing in the doorway to the room. He was trying to draw attention to him but Tucker's mouth was already off and running. 

"Yeah, he saved you. Both times. Put you in his ship and got you to help but for some reason this time he got caught, made a mistake or something because the lieutenants fucking caught him with you and now here we are and why are you looking over my shoulder...." Tucker made a pained face as it caught up with him what was going on and his shoulders went up as he almost physically cringed as he turned to look behind him.

"I believe you told me to fly faster this time, Captain Tucker. I would not consider that my mistake." It was very, very difficult to read the icy expression and voice and Wash really wished all of his limbs were working. Or that he had a weapon somewhere nearby just in case.

Tucker slumped in his chair and ran a hand over his face with a tired sigh. "Well fuckberries."


	7. A Day in the Life - part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the next three chapters will all kind of cover the same event from different angles along with some more character development. Sorry in advance but I will try to keep to a good weekly schedule so no one has to wait too long for anything!
> 
> Also, still loving you all that read it and I am proud of the fact I am still going and haven't lost steam on it.

"Why exactly am I supposed to stay with you all day?" It had been almost two weeks since Tucker had let it slip about their adventure through time and in all that time other than the occasional time where he was kicked out of Washington's room to eat or was told to go sleep he'd been there and he'd only seen the others because they had gone there to visit with Washington. He'd been subjected to multiple versions of their story about time travel and wasn't sure how the injured Freelancer was supposed to understand it when he didn't without brain damage. The one thing Locus did know was he didn't doubt they had done some of the absolutely insane things they were telling him and Washington. Not because Carolina verified they were telling the truth but because it fit with how this particular group of soldiers did things. Somehow they managed to do the impossible all. the. damn. time. 

This morning things had changed when Carolina met him at the door to Washington's room after Locus had been forced to go get breakfast and she'd informed him he was not to come back until after dinner. Then she'd shoved Grif and Caboose out of Washington's room and told them to go play. 

Seriously, those were her exact words. Go. Play.

"Because we are friends and friends should do friend things! I have so many fun games we can play scary friend!" Caboose had brought Freckles in the little robot body and Locus eyed it warily wondering if it still shot bullets like the gun version did since every time Caboose said 'friends' it was waved in his direction. 

"Shut the fuck up Caboose." Grif rolled his eyes before taking a large drink of coffee out of the travel mug he was carrying. It was probably the biggest travel mug anyone had ever seen but it was early for the orange sim trooper to be awake and mobile to be honest. "Carolina said she wants to test that no more killing thing and figured if you could make it through a day with us with no attempted murder then you were pretty serious. That's all. And maybe she was trying to get us all out of her hair for a day." 

Carolina was a shrewd and slightly terrifying woman. Locus sadly couldn't fault her logic as much as he'd like to. They'd taken away his weapons but that didn't mean he couldn't kill someone and this would possibly be a serious test of his resolve. "So all we have to do is...spend a day together?" That was either too easy or the most terrifying thing Locus had ever attempted. 

He was leaning toward terrifying even when he weighed it against fighting in the great war. 

"Here you are!" Donut popped up practically out of nowhere with several little bottles in his hands and it was all Locus could do not to sweep his legs out from under him and make sure whatever he was holding wasn't thrown at him. As it was Locus was quivering with the repressed need to act and it wasn't helping that Grif was chuckling into his gigantic mug of coffee. "Settle down dude, it's just nail polish." 

"Nail polish? Why do you have nail polish?" If they wanted to confuse him they were doing a very good job right now. Locus was treated to a grand eye roll from Donut like he'd asked a stupid question and another smirk from Grif. 

Caboose raised his hand and waved it. "OH I know the answer! You want to do the finger painting thing yes?" 

"Manicures Caboose, and yes, I'm leaving soon now that Wash is getting better and I want to make sure you're all taken care of before I go. Look, blue for Caboose, orange for Grif, Maroon for Simmons...although if he doesn't stop chewing the nails on his non cyborg arm I don't know why I bother...red for Sarge of course and I brought green for Locus." He held up a bottle that had sage green contents and shook it lightly to show it off. "Since Tucker is helping Wash with physical therapy and Carolina said she doesn't want to see our faces today we don't need any for them." Donut sniffed and waved a hand to dismiss their attitude but Locus saw little bottles of gray and yellow and figured that Washington would get a visit this evening to get his fingers done as well. 

Locus had curled his hands into fists when he saw the green nail polish and started trying to edge away from the rest of them but he ended up bumping into a chest wide enough it could only be Caboose's. "No Locus, we're going this way." Caboose put his hands on his shoulders and steered him into what he knew to be Donut's room before he could decide how to get away without hurting anyone. 

"Better not to fight it dude. It'll just happen anyway and Donut has wine and cheese to go with it." Grif was at his side helping Caboose steer him and somehow still managed to drink out of his coffee and talk at the same time without choking himself. 

Simmons and Sarge were already in the room when Locus was pushed inside. Luckily they'd given Donut an unusually large room, probably intended to be a community room of some kind when they weren't here, and there were some tables set up inside so they weren't all on top of each other. Of course Grif's sister Kai was in there as well and she grinned at Locus before winking at him with an amused wrinkle of her nose and going back to shaking up the sunny yellow polish she had in her hand. 

"Well since we have a special guest today we actually have chocolate not just cheese." Donut was back at Locus' elbow as soon as Caboose and Grif had let go of him and he held out a wrapped chocolate to him. It had been a long time since he'd had any sweets in the supplies he'd picked up on A'rynasea, basic MRE's and ration bars were easier to buy in the places he traveled and they stored better. There was no real reason he couldn't pick up a few things to treat himself with on the ship or in when he picked up his tray of food here in their hospital mess but Locus never did. 

He had half reached for the chocolate before hesitating until Donut held it a little closer and Locus took it out of his fingers with a quick movement like a half feral cat expecting it to be taken away. Instead of calling attention to his lack of control Donut ignored how he took the chocolate and pulled out a chair for Locus. "I would rather not." 

"You can't tell me that someone who takes this good care of his hair has never had a manicure." Donut didn't push for him to sit right away. Instead he pulled out several bottles of wine, which still had to be hard to find in the recovering war zone that found itself intermittently under blockade by the UNSC, and several glasses. There was also one plastic glass given to Caboose. While he was watching Locus touched his hair and sighed before he gave in and sat in the chair that had been pulled out for him. "It was a very long time ago. And there wasn't nail polish involved." 

"Blasphemy, why bother to have the rest of it if you aren't going to wear your colors proudly afterward?" Sarge scoffed and took the first glass of wine muttering under his breath at the very idea of not being painted with your team colors while Grif leaned over to speak low enough only Locus could hear him. "If you tell him anything stupid like getting your nails painted is girlie my sister will kick your ass and Sarge will be depressed for weeks. Just suck it up and let Donut do your nails." 

When Locus looked over at Kai she blew him a kiss and winked again. She didn't look like she could kick his ass but looks could be deceiving. Felix looked like a scrawny half grown teenager when they'd been assigned to each other on their squad in the UNSC but he'd been a much better fighter than anyone had expected. 

"Fine." There was another chocolate put down by his free hand when Locus gave Donut one of his hands to work on. This time he managed to take it without snatching but since he couldn't open it one handed he'd held onto it until Simmons cleared his throat uncomfortably and offered to open it for him. Locus suspected if he twitched wrong Simmons might pass out like Doyle used to but he let him open the candy for him and nodded a thank you. 

It wasn't that unpleasant to have his nails done. He wasn't used to wine anymore and it was too sweet for Locus' taste but there was a new chocolate every few minutes and Locus began just handing them to Simmons before he was prompted to have them opened. There was too much talking, and Caboose, Kai and Grif were telling stories about things that didn't make sense but they were laughing and carefully painting each other's nails while drinking wine and slapping Grif's hands when he tried to eat off of plates that weren't his. Even Sarge got in on the stories here and there while Simmons told them all they were remembering things wrong. 

They also bickered and contradicted each other and got into an argument over whether orange or yellow was better until Caboose took the side that blue was the best color and got Sarge riled up and shouting. But despite all of that Locus could see the ties they all had to each other. They weren't just a team, or two teams as Sarge insisted, they were a family and it made Locus feel more alone to be in the middle of it than he did when he floated in the black of space waiting for a call to answer with nothing keeping him company but the random signals that A'rynasea picked up. 

Some of what he was feeling must have shown on his face despite Locus trying to keep his expression blank because at one point when he looked up at Donut the sim trooper was looking at him with a sad and sympathetic expression. Locus almost took his hand back, he didn't want to be pitied, but Donut had a good grip on his fingers and he looked down at Locus' nails to keep painting and hide the expression. "Maybe it was too big of a start." 

"Perhaps." Locus saw another chocolate appear by his hand and started to suspect he was being treated like that half feral cat he'd appeared to be when given the first treat. Feed the wild mercenary enough treats and maybe he'd start to trust you and let you pet him. 

Once everyone had a coat of color on their nails, and Caboose had color scrubbed off of the rest of his hands, Sarge shooed the rest of them off and said he'd take Locus to help him with his latest project. The man had his shotgun propped against his shoulder as they walked down the corridor and for once no one was speaking very much. Locus enjoyed the silence after the constant barrage of talking he'd just been through. 

"You don't have to actually help with the project. Just figured you might be a couple blocks past done with socializing." Sarge opened up the door to the small outdoor quad that connected the rooms they used for living to the shop where he worked on various projects and nodded Locus through first. 

"I...appreciate that." Locus could go the rest of the day without talking if they would let him get away with it. He went through the door then hesitated when he saw the two soldiers standing near the path talking. The reddish brown ponytail and freckes on the woman with red accents and the shock of unruly brown hair topping the light brown skin and ridiculously slender build even in his green accented power armor let him know it was Jensen and Palomo. Only the Lieutenants were allowed to be here outside of the Reds and Blues so he had become more familiar with what they looked like without their helmets on. 

Palomo always looked at him with that mixture of anger and sadness that told Locus he'd personally killed someone the Lieutenant knew so he usually did his best to avoid him. Since he couldn't avoid him he waited for Sarge to lead the way then avoided looking at Palomo as he made his way across the quad. They were almost to the door when Locus heard the distinctive metallic click of a grenade being activated.

"GET DOWN!" Locus could be loud when he needed to be and he pushed Sarge through the door out of the quad even as he bellowed the warning but the two young Lieutenants were caught off guard and froze instead of going for cover. There wasn't any time to hesitate, before he even consciously thought about it Locus sprinted forward to grab them both by their armored waists and shove them to the ground for cover. 

They'd barely hit the grass when the grenade went off leaving his ears ringing and he could feel various sharp pains where pieces of shrapnel or gravel had scrapes and bruised him. No motor function seemed impaired as he rolled off of the Lieutenants and grabbed their helmets where they'd fallen off the bench they'd been standing by and shoved them at Jensen and Palomo. "Put them on, stay down!" He wasn't sure if he was shouting or not. The explosion had done a number on his ears and there were alarms going off everywhere making it even harder to assess his hearing. 

"Locus!" Sarge was half behind the door he'd been shoved through shouting for an update. 

"Minimal injuries, attempting to locate the target. Stay where you are." He crouched beside the bench hoping either Jensen or Palomo would contact backup now that they had their helmets. Scanning the rooftops of the buildings around the quad wasn't helping, he just didn't see anything but without a scope or radar it was difficult to pick up movement at the best of times. 

"Negative, coming to escort you out son. Just be ready to move." Sarge cocked his shotgun and left the shelter of the door to come and cover Locus. "Jensen take his six, Palomo go open the door so we don't have to stop. Locus, on my signal go for the door, we'll cover you." 

All Locus could do was growl and get ready to move. If he had his weapons and armor this wouldn't be necessary. If Jensen and Palomo were halfway competent soldiers and hadn't frozen this wouldn't be necessary. 

"Go!" Palomo had reached the door so Sarge gave the signal and jogged beside Locus with his shotgun at the ready while Jensen stayed and covered his back on the move. It wasn't that far, if they had any luck at all they could reach it without further incident and then Locus could check over the shrapnel damage and maybe avoid everyone for the rest of the day. 

The pain ripped through his chest and shoulder before Locus heard the report of the shot and felt his legs going out from under him. Sniper round. The door was still several feet away when he fell in a boneless slide on the path and felt the pain start to take him under and away from consciousness.

Unfortunate.


	8. A Day in the Life - part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry, I got distracted with RvB Secret Santa stuff but I am back on track now! As always no beta so all mistakes are mine.

“Are you about ready President Kimball?” Since Carolina had kicked Locus out of Wash’s room to spend the day with the Reds and Blues she had planned to take the day to assess her own recovery and to look into the political situation by asking Kimball to spar with her. Unfortunately, just being in the same room had caused the subject of Locus to be brought up almost immediately and put some distance in between the two of them as they stretched out in preparation to fight. Carolina had honestly hoped that they could put the subject off until later so she could just enjoy a little time with a friend she rarely got to see anymore first. But of course that wasn’t what happened. 

“Carolina, why won’t you call me Vanessa?” There was too much grey showing in the temples of Kimball’s dark hair when she pulled it back into a knot to keep it out of her face while they fought. Sparring with Carolina when she told her she wasn’t going to take it easy meant Kimball needed to keep it tied down or she either ate it or on one memorable occasion had it used as the means to grab her and pull her into a hold when Carolina was tired of Kimball saying it didn’t make any difference if it was down in a fight. 

“When we talk about Locus, you’re President Kimball.” Carolina shrugged before she took one arm and used it to pull her other arm across her body to stretch it out. “And you’re the one that brought him up so it’s your fault.” Carolina wouldn’t let anyone use her friendship with Kimball as a weapon against her in anything political if she could manage it. 

She dropped her arms and shook them out with a regretful sigh before reaching up to put her own hair into a quick knot to keep it out of her face. Carolina didn’t expect this sparring session to be one intense enough that she actually needed to put her hair up but it was habit and being a good example. “You know I can’t be your friend when we talk about him. When it comes to Locus I have to be your advisor first. That way no one can use me against you.” 

And they both knew better than to say they were talking alone and wouldn’t be overheard. Neither of them were stupid enough to think they were ever 100% clear of listening devices.

“Fine. I get it...I just don’t have to like it. Sometimes I need a friend’s advice and I would like to have it when it comes to him and I can’t have yours even though I want it.” Kimball let out her breath in a frustrated huff but the stress of the situation was clear on her face. It had been easier during the war without the UNSC watching over their shoulders and criticizing everything they did and said. “So let’s talk about something else.” 

Kimball took her ‘ready’ position and Carolina stepped onto the mat with her and gestured her forward from her own stance. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?” 

Kimball made the first move but neither of them were really trying to hit each other yet, it wall all a pattern of attacks and blocks that Carolina had designed for Kimball’s training during the war while they were all in Armonia. They were muscle memory exercises and it was clear that Kimball was keeping up with at least these when Carolina wasn’t here because they both moved through them without hesitation like the steps of a complicated dance. It was actually relaxing and Carolina could see the tension leaking out of Kimball’s face and shoulders at the familiarity. 

“I want to talk about time travel.” Kimball didn’t falter in her movements while talking and Carolina felt a little sting of pride for that. Carolina hadn’t been her only trainer but she was the one that had spent the most time teaching her hand to hand combat knowing she might have to go up against Felix in the war and would need to stay alive until help could get there. “Caboose has been telling stories to Smith and Santa says it’s possible. You told me you thought you knew how events would happen but that you didn’t know what to expect. As weird of a possibility it is it seems to be the one that makes the most sense.” 

Carolina didn’t slow down the movements they were going through but she finally nodded once. “It’s true. This is the second time Wash has been shot and we all thought...well we lived past this point and did some things but the focal point was Wash’s injury so that’s where we started up again. We should have known what was going to happen from there but then...well when they told us Locus was caught that meant that we had no idea.” She hated it but Carolina knew that some of that flat terror of realizing they were walking blind when they thought at least for a little while they were going to have a map was leaking through her voice. It came across as a sharp, crisp, snap of anger so you had to know her to read it but it was there. 

And for one minute she wanted nothing more than to sit down and tell all of it to someone. She’d told Wash and Locus the facts but she hadn’t told them about how it had affected her. Carolina swallowed that all back down and caught Kimball’s wrist instead of deflecting it like she was supposed to. “We keep coming back to second chances. And I can’t help thinking that people shouldn’t waste them Vanessa. And I’m afraid that we’re going to, that_ I _am going to.” She watched Kimball’s eyes widen slightly when she used her first name but she didn’t try to pull her arm back out of Carolina’s grip. 

“I think we’ve all squandered some second chances along the way.” Kimball was obviously choosing her words carefully as she spoke. “I know I would like to avoid losing any others. So why don’t we see what we can do about that? After we finish here we can go to my office and talk. See if we can come up with any...ideas.” 

There had been something about the slight lilt to Kimball’s voice and the way her head tipped to the side that made Carolina want to smile and she wasn’t sure why. “I think that’s a good idea.” Carolina’s grip shifted on Kimball’s wrist so it was just barely holding her but she felt oddly reluctant to let go. She wasn’t sure what exactly she wanted but they weren’t going to find out if they didn’t have five minutes together where they weren’t interrupted or talking about Locus so Carolina decided to just jump. 

“Vanessa, maybe we should…” The grenade going off in the distance followed by the wail of alarms made her break off with a snarl. “Fucking of course! I’m not watching them for FIVE MINUTES and something happens!” 

Kimball turned when Carolina did to retrieve her weapon. “It might not be them. Right? No, you’re right, it’ll have to do with them.” the President had spent too long with the Reds and Blues to believe that anyone else was in the middle of it. And no doubt Locus would be there too.

She wished she had time to put her armor on but there were people yelling for Carolina and Kimball and the sharp retort of gunfire so Carolina settled for slinging her rifle over her back and snatching up the Humbler stun device from the rack on the wall as she sprinted out the door in her workout clothes. 

Even with the sirens going off it wasn’t that difficult to figure out which direction to go. There were other armored figures up ahead near the door that went out to the quad, Jensen and Palomo were covering the open door with rifles aimed at the roofline. Okay, maybe she’d been a little too hasty to assume that it was her team that...and nope there was Sarge dragging Locus through the door, leaving a heavy smear of blood across the ground. 

“What happened?” She leaned down to help drag the unconscious ex-mercenary through the door into the hallway. It looked like he’d been hit in the upper chest but she didn’t have any biofoam to use on him. “And tell me Grey is on the way.” 

“Uh, there was a grenade. He knocked us out of the way.” Palomo gestured at Locus. “I mean I think he was knocking us out of the way. Maybe he was trying to use us for cover or something.” 

“No it was definitely getting us out of the way.” Jensen’s shook her head quickly and her lisp was worse than usual with the stress. “He told us to get down.”

Sarge put his hand over the bullet hole in Locus’ chest. “Kids called Grey, it’s a sniper. Almost had him to cover and they tagged him. It wasn’t a killing shot so either the varmint’s a really good shot or a really bad one. We’ve got this covered go on.” Sarge nodded to the door and Carolina nodded and crouched down by the door frame. As soon as Palomo and Jensen lay down a burst of cover fire in case someone was still out there she sprinted out of the door into the quad and used one of the small trees to get up onto the wall by swinging up onto a branch and leaping to the stonework.

There was no one there but that wasn’t much of a surprise. Just a sniper rifle and the shooter could be almost outside of the city and make that shot if they were on a flat plane. But being able to get a bead on Locus in the enclosed quad and also throwing or launching a grenade into the area limited the possibilities on locations. If they weren’t close by on the lower roof of the hospital then they had to be in one of the tall buildings that could actually look down into the area. That limited locations to two. 

Carolina didn’t have her armor or a radio so unfortunately continuing on wasn’t an option. It would just be too risky to take off after a sniper in only leggings, t-shirt and soft practice shoes. If she was younger chances were she would have ran off after the attacker anyway but now her need to prove she was better than everyone else was tempered with the experience that told her not to be a fucking idiot since all that proved was that she was an idiot. 

The goal was definitely not to prove that she could be a better idiot than anyone else. The Reds and Blues had set that bar a little too high to risk. 

With an unhappy growl under her breath, Carolina took one last look around the roof and wall but if the shooter had been there they’d policed their ammo and evidence. She still wasn’t willing to bet they’d been this close. There was no evidence or reason to think that Locus was going to walk through the quad so the shooter was either insanely lucky or had been set up in location for a long time to wait. They couldn’t do that from here without discover so they needed to check the two buildings that had a line of sight for a nest. 

She dropped back down into the quad and stalked back to the door they’d dragged Locus through. “No sign of the sniper but I doubt they were close.” Andersmith was there now and Doctor Grey with Doc and another medic all hovering over Locus. The ex-mercenary was laying there bonelessly limp as the medics moved his arm and rolled him to look at the exit wound. There was no way to feign that level of unconsciousness and Carolina wondered if it was being shot or if Doctor Grey had sedated him but she wasn’t going to interrupt and ask. Instead, she turned to Andersmith and gestured for his data pad. 

“We’ll need to search the two buildings with a line of sight. Here...and here.” She pulled up a quick map and zoomed in to their location before touching where she wanted their attention with a fingertip leaving the map marked for them. 

Andersmith nodded as he took the datapad back. “I also assume we don’t want to advertise that Locus was the target?” 

“Right. Otherwise we’ll end up with more shooters here and we don’t want that.” Carolina sighed and started to run her fingers through her hair but stopped when she ran into the knot keeping her hair back and let her hand fall again. “They probably had a partner, you _can_ throw a grenade and switch to the rifle but I doubt it. I’m going to get my armor and I’ll meet you back here to start the search.” 

She’d just fallen back into taking charge like she had during the war and Carolina didn’t even realize it until she turned on her heel and almost ran into Kimball. When it hit her that she’d just stepped in and took over everything without even bothering to wait and see what Kimball would feel about it or need done she stopped and waited to see if she’d overstepped her bounds. Kimball just nodded to her with her shoulders back and chin up in her ‘president’ mode. The warm brown eyes were closed off and none of that closeness from the training room was there any more. 

“Report back when you can Agent Carolina.” And she was back to being ‘Agent’ now. Carolina was beginning to think the universe was out to get her considering that every time she’d started to talk to Kimball since Wash had been hurt had ended somehow with alarms, Locus and a gun being involved. She nodded and moved to go around Kimball to get back to the training room and get her armor and the rest of her weapons and tried to not feel disappointed that she was being thrown back into duty. Wasn’t that what she was good at?

“And Carolina…” Despite Kimball still holding herself stiffly some of the warmth had come back to her eyes when she looked at Carolina. “...maybe we can finish that talk later?” 

It was one of the few times she’d heard Kimball’s voice hold uncertainty, like she wanted to hope that they would get that chance to talk but wasn’t going to set herself up for it to want it and not get it. Carolina slowed down long enough to touch the wrist she’d been holding earlier and she nodded with a slight smile. “I look forward to it. Tell Grey to update me when she can, we’ll probably be out there for a while but I’ll check in when I get back.” 

She squeezed Kimball’s wrist before letting go and continuing on to get her armor. 

First things first, time to look for clues about the shooter.


	9. A Day in the Life - part three

It had been two weeks since Tucker had told the story about traveling in time. Some of what he’d told Wash and Locus had seemed familiar but a lot of it just sounded like some fantastic story, so fantastic he’d made Carolina spend the next evening with him telling it all to him again. By that time he was able to have the back of his bed cranked up so he could sit up talking to people instead of laying there feeling like a stranded fish. There was a little bit of slur and rasp to his words and too much talking still made him feel like he had a throat full of glass but as long as he was just sitting up and listening he felt almost okay, like it was a normal stint of being wounded instead of how fucked up he really was. 

Wash was more than ready for the physical therapy when Doctor Grey finally let him up out of bed to work on moving around. First he’d had to do something called occupational therapy which involved learning how to make his muscles do what he wanted them to so he could do all the things he should be able to do without thinking. Things like picking up a cup of water, feeding himself, brushing his teeth. Thankfully he was ambidextrous so he was able to use his left hand for a lot of things but since they wouldn’t let him start to walk around until he’d worked on his right hand having some control Wash had worked single mindedly on doing all the exercises they gave him until Doctor Grey had to lecture him on overdoing things being as bad as not doing them at all. 

The last thing Wash wanted was help doing things, especially since they had Locus in there being his helper along with whoever was visiting, he didn’t like to look weak in front of anyone much less Locus. Wash never could find a hint of pity on anyone’s face but there was a whole lot of discomfort as they all found out what exactly they’d missed last time by being drawn off into their time travel adventures. He pretended he didn’t see it and he continued working as hard as Doctor Grey would let him on getting better. 

It was still a relief when Carolina had thrown everyone else out that morning and left him with only Tucker. Physical therapy had him walking with the help of a walker and making trips up and down the hallway in the block of rooms they were all occupying. Tucker strolled alongside him and managed to mostly not pay attention to the weird shuffle he’d picked up since his right leg still dragged as he moved it forward. Instead Tucker was being uncharacteristically quiet and shooting glances at Wash and sucking in his breath like he was going to say something only to let it back out again in a sigh. 

“I can tell you want to talk about something.” Two weeks of therapy had mostly removed the slur from his words but there was still a gravelly undertone to his voice and the few times he’d tried to shout...he really couldn’t avoid that instinct to yell when his team really got going...he’d regretted it when he ended up coughing until he could taste blood. 

Tucker frowned and shrugged. “It’s nothing man.” But the frown hadn’t gone away and now his shoulders were hunched up slightly as they walked.

“Tucker.” Wash was trying really hard not to sound like anything in particular but he was sure his tone had probably been a little exasperated anyway. “Look, if you want to say something, it's probably the only time you won’t have an audience.” He was pretty sure that Tucker didn’t want to talk in front of Locus so if he wanted to talk now was the time. Or maybe he was wishing that Locus was there so he could continue to avoid it. Tucker wasn’t much better at talking about emotional things than Wash. 

Tucker let out an exaggerated sigh and rolled his eyes at the ceiling. “Fiiine Wash. Jesus.” Despite giving in he waited so long to start talking that Wash almost thought he’d changed his mind. “It’s my fault you’re hurt okay. I charged in, wouldn’t listen to anyone...okay I wouldn’t listen to Locus...and because I started up a battle we could have avoided…” Tucker waved a hand at Wash indicating the walker and the injuries. 

Wash stopped walking and used his weaker hand to catch at Tucker’s sleeve to get him to stop as well. “It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t put me in armor lock, and I was out of my mind when I walked into the battle.” He didn’t remember that, no matter how hard he pushed there wasn’t even a hint of the gunfight in his memory. He had dreams about feeling like he couldn’t get air where he coughed and choked and tasted blood until he would finally claw his way to consciousness but he wasn’t sure if they were real or just his mind putting together what it thought had happened. 

“It happens, Tucker, in war and battles people get hurt, sometimes they get killed, not everyone makes it back.” 

“Don’t ever say things that fucking psycho said!” Tucker slapped Wash’s hand off his sleeve and the angry shout made Wash physically flinch back so that he had to catch himself by gripping hard at the walker when his weak right leg started to collapse under him. The last thing he wanted was for Tucker to feel guilty if he fucked up and fell down so he didn’t draw attention to any of it and Tucker seemed to miss how white knuckled he was gripping the bar until he felt secure on his leg again. It helped that Tucker was looking at the floor instead of Wash so he missed a lot of it. By the time Tucker finally sighed and looked back up Wash could see his shoulders sagging, looking defeated, and it wasn’t something he was used to seeing on Tucker. 

“You told us mistakes were the dirt we grew from okay...which by the way do you just practice that shit all the time hoping that you can give dramatic speeches? Because, dude.” The look that Tucker leveled at him was equal parts amused and disgusted. 

“I don’t...they’re not that dramatic!” Wash could feel his voice trying to crank up to a register it couldn’t deal with right now so he forced himself to take a deep breath and lower his voice. “I just talk, okay, they’re not speeches, they’re not lectures it’s just me talking.” And maybe being a little dramatic. But only a little. 

Tucker snorted and rolled his eyes again but thankfully let it go. “We should have listened to you okay? We wanted to go back and fix shit but all we did was mess it up more. You told us we just needed to clean up our mess and you’d help us...but you know.” One more guilty look was shot at Wash and his walker before Tucker scrubbed his hands over his face and back through his dreads.

He hadn’t been able to help because he was hurt. And Carolina and his whole team had broken the universe trying to fix him. Carolina had told him everything that evening she’d spent with him and answered any questions he asked without hesitation...even if it was the third or fourth time he’d asked and didn’t remember asking before. That meant he knew that he actually had been there to help after they broke it all and had to put it back together. 

“Hey.” Wash nudged the stupid metal frame of the walker to the side and took one slide-step to put his good hand on Tucker’s shoulder to get him to look at him. “I did help you clean it up didn’t I? Not bad for a buzzkill.” He could feel his lips tugging into a lopsided smile as he said it. There was just something natural about the affectionate teasing.

“Seriously? That’s one of the things you remember?” Tucker laughed as he punched Wash lightly in the shoulder. “Okay, Dad, you have a point. We did do it all together...and Jesus Wash aren’t you supposed to be using that thing?” He looked pointedly at the walker that Wash had abandoned but right now Wash wanted nothing to do with it so he just shrugged and did his best to ignore the subtle suggestion he start using it again. 

It was so difficult to be patient and wait to get better. Or at least as better as he was going to get. Doctor Grey had told him he would always have gaps in his memory, there would be issues with not just his long term memory but his short term memory as well. He would learn ways to cope with it. Wash would learn to keep notes, use memory association, and routines to help him remember what to do. But she warned him that stress and fatigue would always worsen his recall and headaches and possibly his muscle control. 

Right now, he didn’t want to think about all of that. He just wanted things to get back to something like normal with his friends and using the walker just reminded him it wasn’t normal. Wash knew it was being childish to avoid using the things he needed but that didn’t keep him from doing it anyway. 

“I didn’t mean to sound like...him.” The name slipped through Wash’s mental fingers even as he reached for it. It was so frustrating to know what he wanted to say right until he tried to say it. 

“Felix.” Tucker supplied the name for him and Wash felt the relief as the name clicked into place in his mind. When he forgot the words he was trying to say it was like a steady pressure against his mind that wouldn’t go away until he finally knew what the word was. It was like his brain kept pushing and poking through the files trying to find what it wanted and doing nothing but going in circles until he felt something like a bruised headache behind his eyes. 

Wash nodded with a quick smile for the name being supplied. Tucker always managed to do it without making Wash feel stupid for not remembering. “I didn’t mean to sound like Felix.” 

“I know you didn’t. I just don’t want to be reminded you were almost one of the guys that didn’t come back okay? And you’d better not ever say that bullshit to Caboose or he’ll come cry on my shoulder and I can’t deal with that again.” Tucker reached around Wash to grab the walker and put it in front of him with a sharp clack of the legs on the tile floor. “You remember how much you nagged me about not walking without help until my gut healed up from that stab wound?” 

Wash reluctantly took hold of the walker when Tucker put it in front of him. He wanted to leave it behind but the ache in his hip and leg for the short distance they’d walked was a warning he might not make it that far before he ended up on the floor. His dignity could barely take walking with the crutch. Taking a header onto the floor and not being able to get up would do it in completely. “If I said I didn’t remember would you let me get away with it?”

“Fuck no, just use it asshole.” Tucker’s voice was amused and there was a grin pulling at his lips and for a minute Wash felt that easy friendship they’d developed on Iris and it was like everything was normal again. It was just Wash and Tucker, about to put on their armor and patrol. He could almost hear the good natured bitching that would be coming next about how pointless patrol was on their retirement moon now that the dinosaurs were gone.

“Even without the dinosaurs we have to patrol Tucker. You know that.” Wash had laughed when he said it but the smile had slipped off of Tucker’s face and was replaced by shock. Tucker rubbed his hand over his face again and looked away at the wall and at the floor like he didn’t know where to look but he didn’t want to look at his friend and Wash was having a hard time deciding what was wrong. 

Tucker took a couple of deep breaths and when he finally looked back at him Wash thought he just looked tired. Maybe he’d been working him too hard lately, a day off of patrol might not hurt anything. “We’re not patrolling, you’re on Chorus Wash. You got hurt remember?” 

“What?” At first Wash had no idea what Tucker was talking about but when he tried to take a step forward his foot dragged against the tile and he almost tripped over the walker making him look down in surprise. He’d been so sure he was on Iris, in their own base, and now the hallway around him didn’t seem familiar and there was a headache starting to throb behind his right eye. “Oh. I’m sorry, I got confused for a second.” 

How could he have mistaken this place for Iris? For one thing the building was in one piece and clean. There was a smell of disinfectant but it wasn’t like being in the hospital proper because it was just their group and Locus so no one was cleaning multiple times a day with harsh chemicals. 

“It’s okay Wash. Let’s just finish your laps right?” Tucker still looked disturbed but he had his characteristic grin when he nodded down the hallway for them to keep walking. Wash nodded and gripped the walker to keep going. 

They’d made it almost halfway back to his room with his slow step-sliding gait when they heard the grenade go off. It wasn’t in the building but it had to be close by outside and Wash pushed the walker aside and started to take a step forward when Tucker caught him by the shoulders and held him back. “No! You’re not going out there!” 

“Tucker!” Wash tried to push past him but Tucker just planted his feet and wouldn’t move. Frustration boiled up in Wash’s chest when he couldn’t do anything. His instinct was to run out and help but he couldn’t even run and he wouldn’t be any help even if he did get out there. It felt like all of the strength ran out of his right side so instead of doing what he wanted Wash ended up holding on to Tucker so he wouldn’t fall down and be an even worse hinderance. 

He stood still while Tucker got his arm around Wash’s waist and pulled his arm up over his shoulders to get them both moving down the hall to Wash’s room. There were shots fired outside. It sounded like DMR fire and what had to be Sarge’s shotgun. There was nothing worse than having to listen to a battle that had to involve his team and not know what was going on and being too hurt to help. Wash could hold a gun left handed but would he have the reaction time he needed to hit someone? Considering how he was being half dragged down the hallway into his room he doubted it at this point. 

By the time Tucker got him into his room and dropped him in a chair Wash was dripping with sweat from the strain and it was hard to think around the pounding behind his eyes. He ended up gripping the arms of the chair with his eyes squeezed shut waiting for the pain to ebb so he could think again while Tucker scooped up his helmet to use the radio to check in. 

“...Wash? Hey, Wash look at me you’re starting to scare me here.” He must have lost some time because Tucker’s voice had a thin, strained tone to it that made Wash think this wasn’t the first time he’d asked him to look at him. Slowly he became aware there were hands on his shoulders and they were gripping a little too tightly but that helped him center himself. 

The light wasn’t doing its rainbow prism trick yet but it was way too bright when Wash managed to force himself to open his eyes. “I’m okay. It’s just a headache. I’ll be okay.” Just a headache that felt like someone had smashed him with the claw end of a hammer but that was actually better than it had been a few minutes ago. 

“Jesus. You scared the fuck out of me dude. You’re pale as shit right now.” The grip on his shoulders loosened. “Carolina’s investigating the shooter and wants me to help. They went after Locus, I guess they managed to get a round into him and Grey is taking him to surgery and Sarge is coming back here while I’m gone. Knowing Grif and Simmons they won’t be far behind and they’ll catch you up on everything.” 

The hands on his shoulders let go and Wash kept his eyes open even though he really wanted to close them against the harsh overhead lights and nodded. “I’m fine. Go help Carolina.” Tucker’s brows drew down into a frown and he bit his lip looking like he was torn on what to do but he finally nodded in return and left to grab his armor to suit up and help Carolina leaving Wash in the chair.

And Wash sat there, closed his eyes against the migraine that was making him feel sick and felt useless.


	10. Past Sins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, I had a week off work so lookie here I am posting the next chapter early. As always there is no beta so all mistakes are all me.

Locus had been shot enough in his life to know what must have happened as soon as he woke up and made his first aborted attempt to move. As soon as the sharp pain robbed him of his breath he froze in place and cracked his eyes open to assess the situation. Surprisingly, he was in a hospital bed bathed in the acid green glow of a healing unit. Not surprisingly, his hands were cuffed to each side of the bed to keep him in place.

“It’s about time you woke up. I would have thought with your constitution and the healing unit you would have been up at least thirty minutes ago. I so rarely miscalculate like that.” The doctor’s cheerful chirp of a voice brought back the attack and the sniper shot that had taken him down and he gave up trying to look like he was less than alert and instead turned his head to look at his bandaged chest and shoulder. It was clean and professionally bandaged, he expected no less, Doctor Grey wouldn’t do substandard work even if she didn’t like the person she was working on. She didn’t do substandard work when she was disassembling someone for torture either. 

Locus carefully flexed his left arm as far as the cuff on his wrist would allow him in order to gauge the pain level. It was bearable with the healing unit numbing his nerve feedback but he recognized underneath that mask he wasn’t going to want to do much with that arm for a day or two. Despite all of that, it wasn’t all that serious of a wound considering it had been inflicted by someone with a weapon that could be used by professional to take out an eye from over a mile away. 

“They were not a good shot.” He hadn’t framed it as a question but when Locus looked up to meet the doctor’s eyes there was something there that made him wonder if he was right about that.

“Do you know what this is?” Doctor Grey picked up a small glass container from the table and rattled its contents at him. It was something metallic and looked like it might have been a chip of some kind. Locus frowned looking at it because it was covered in flecks of dried blood. There was no reason for her to be showing him something with blood unless it was _his_ blood. 

Locus shook his head. “No. Did they shoot me with that?” Was there something more going on here than just trying to kill him? Locus didn’t like it when things didn’t make sense, they were possibly getting more complicated and all he wanted was something straight forward but that didn’t seem to be an option for him anymore.

“Interesting.” The doctor tipped her head to the side and studied him with pursed lips until he started to feel distinctly uncomfortable, it was like she was studying a specimen under her microscope. “Hm. Well, no, I’d say they were an excellent shot. Not only did they shoot you without permanent damage to your Suprascapular nerve and avoided the several arteries in that area, they also destroyed the tracker I implanted in your shoulder.” 

What she was telling him didn’t make any sense to Locus. “To what end? You would notice the tracker was destroyed and I could hardly run from surgery.” Locus couldn’t think of anyone that would want to shoot him and _not_ kill him aside from the Reds and Blues and he doubted they were responsible. The only ones that could have made the shot were accounted for. Washington was obviously unable currently and Carolina was meeting with Kimball. 

“It’s possible they were going to try to take you out before we could implant a new tracker. They are quite sophisticated and don’t exactly grow on trees you know.” Doctor Grey pointed at the device that Sarge had attached to his wrist. “But they didn’t account for this. Apparently it might have exploded if it was taken too far...and I will talk to our good Sargeant about that since I don’t want my hospital blowing up.”

Locus looked at the device on his arm with a frown and a slightly sick feeling knowing it could have blown up at any time. He’d rather not lose his arm that way, because it would be his luck he’d only be maimed and not killed if the device went off. “So you are saying something happened while I was unconscious.” It most certainly wasn’t a question. Something had happened and Locus wanted to know what it was. He was awake now and he was going to be on his guard despite the injury. Anyone wishing him harm might be in for a surprise if they came at him. 

The doctor made a humming sound and shrugged, indicating just about anything but Locus knew something had happened. They wouldn’t have known about the actual bomb strapped to his wrist if it hadn’t. Locus found himself turning and fidgeting with his wrist and the device by rubbing it against the sheets of the bed and the cuff around his wrist and had to force himself to stop. It was unknown what Sarge had designed it to do and the last thing he wanted to do was set it off accidentally.

“What will you do with me now?” It was a valid question. They didn’t want him around for personal and political reasons so this was the perfect excuse to get rid of him. It would only be logical for them to put him into a real cell and put him on trial now.

“Oh you’re going in with Agent Washington for now.” The doctor busied herself disconnecting his IV and monitor wires before unlocking the cuffs on each side to free his arms. 

That made no sense. “Why? The charade is exposed. You should be putting me on trial.” Were the Reds and Blues infecting everyone with their idiocy?

“Well, you might not be a good helper for a few days with your arm but the deal is still active. And it is the best place to guard you for now.” Locus’ attention snapped to the doorway where Kimball was standing with her arms crossed and her expression guarded. He had not sensed her there until she spoke and he didn’t like it when someone was able to sneak up on him like that. For now he blamed the drugs and the ambient noise of the monitors and machines in his room. “I can’t trust any of my men to guard you while we are making decisions. We’re sending you there now.” She gestured to someone behind her in the hallway and Locus expected Sarge or Tucker to step out, or Grif and Simmons if he was very unlucky. 

Instead the slender figure of Lieutenant Palomo stepped into the room. He was wearing his teal accented armor but not his helmet so Locus could see how ashen he looked beneath his tanned skin. “I’ll, um I’ll get him back and report in.” 

“You don’t have to do this Palomo.” Kimball put a hand on his shoulder and after a short pause Palomo nodded. “No, it’s okay. I do have to do it. I’ll be fine.” He stepped forward and helped Doctor Grey get Locus out of the bed and into a wheelchair. Thankfully, they had dressed him in sweats under the absurd hospital gown he was wearing. It was bad enough to be rolled through the hallways half dressed and unarmed without having his ass hanging out the back of the gown on top of it.

It took a little maneuvering for them to get his tall body into the chair and settled with his feet on the rests so he could be moved. The drugs and the healing unit were apparently still making him numb and slow to react. Despite that as soon as he was seated the cuffs were attached again to hold each of his wrists to the arms of the wheelchair. Locus wondered if that was for security or just to make Palomo feel safer while he wheeled him to where they were going.

“You killed my friends.” Palomo had waited until he’d rolled him out of the room and away from the others to start talking. Locus didn’t say anything. What could he say other than, yes, he had killed them. Or Felix had. Which was pretty much the same thing. “But you saved me and Katie...Jensen. Which, I mean I don’t about me. I’m just...I’m not stupid I know I am just the worst but she’s worth saving.” 

It really wasn’t clear where he was going with all of this so Locus still stayed silent as they rolled along slowly down the hallway. After a silent moment he turned his head to look over his shoulder at Palomo and when he did the chair slowly came to a halt. The young Lieutenant had let go to swipe the back of his hand across his eyes and he cleared his throat uncomfortably as he caught up to catch hold of the handles again. “Did you know I was the only surviving member of Green team?” There was a false cheerfulness back in his voice as they started moving again.

“No.” Locus had never been good at talking to people. He liked to let the silence speak for him but that was the behavior of the monster. The suit of armor and the gun who didn’t care about anything and he wasn’t supposed to do that anymore. It was just easier when he was talking to people that he hadn’t been trying to exterminate. “Did I kill them?” It would make sense if that was the case. The looks he’d always received from Palomo said there was something personal behind it. 

The long silence told Locus all he needed. Only now for the first time he felt the need to know more about someone he’d killed. He couldn’t even pretend to feel bad for the individuals he’d killed because there were just too many to separate into individual regrets but that wasn’t the case for the soldier pushing his chair.

“When?” The chair stopped again but this time it was because Palomo was looking at him like he’d just spoken an alien language. When he didn’t answer and kept looking at him like that Locus sighed. “When did this happen?”

“Oh.” The younger soldier chewed on a lip without looking at Locus. “Felix took Captain Tucker and Green team to try to recover data from one of the Fed sites. Obviously he was playing us and we didn’t know it. He ended up telling us to blow it up but you were there.” Palomo’s voice was flat and sounded tired unlike the animated tone he’d had earlier but what he said sounded familiar.

“I believe I remember.” Polomo obviously hadn’t expected him to say anything because he jerked like Locus had just jumped up and yelled boo in his face. The jerk to the wheelchair didn’t help the ache that had started up in his injured shoulder. Leaving the healing unit behind had interrupted the nerve blocks but he was used to ignoring pain. “Felix informed me they were taking information from the lab. Our orders were to keep the Reds and Blues separated from their leaders so we could not allow the information to be taken. I killed one in the lab…” He stopped and looked at Palomo who was staring at him with a mix of emotions that made him look much younger than he really was.

It took the young soldier a moment to realize what Locus was asking of him by pausing and he gulped in a deep breath of air. “Jason. Jason Cunningham. We joined up together, we’d known each other since we started school.” 

“Jason Cunningham.” He had a name to go with the kill now. Locus wished he was on A'rynasea so he could ask the ship to remember it for him and log the circumstance. It would need to wait. “Everything began to blow up, Felix warned me and I took cover but there were other fatalities. Several Federal soldiers and…?” He paused again so Palomo could add in more names if he needed to.

“Eric Rogers. He was caught in the explosions.” Palomo didn’t sound as faint as he had a few moments ago. The chair started forward again. Locus wondered if Palomo expected him to apologize. Most people did. “But you saved me and Jensen. I don’t get it, you could have let us die, you didn’t have on armor and no one expects you to put your neck on the line for us. I guess...I mean I don’t forgive you or anything. You killed a lot of people and not just Green team. But like I said Jensen is important so I guess we’re even.” 

They continued down the hallway with only the faint squeak of the tires of the wheelchair on the tile for company while they both reflected on what Palomo was offering. In the end Locus took a deep breath and shook his head. “No. We’re not. There is no being even for what I’ve done.” 

“No. We’re not.” Palomo hit the plate on the wall that opened the door for them into the section of building that Washington was quartered in with his men. “But I don’t want you dead anymore. So...that’s something I guess.” There was animation in his voice again but all it succeeded in doing was making him sound very, very young.

“It is...something.” Locus nodded but he kept his gaze forward feeling like if he looked at the young Lieutenant he might have to say something more. He already felt an uncomfortable weight of emotions from the conversation pulling at him like walking through a spiderweb. No matter how he might try to brush it aside he could still feel them clinging to his skin. Everyone on this planet had been touched by the damage he had done. 

Grif and Simmons were there when the door opened and Locus was rolled across the threshold into their custody. He caught sight of the chipped green on his fingernails while they argued over the fact that he had handcuffs and closed his fingers into a fist to hide the color. That didn’t belong there. He didn’t deserve to have that sort of thing, not the polish but the time with people taking care of him like they had. Locus kept his fingers clenched shut while the handcuffs were removed. 

He should leave. But he would keep his word to remain and obey whatever restrictions were set on him. It was all he could do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First Wash and now Locus, let's see if we can get through the next chapter without Carolina joining the depressed and dramatic crew. 
> 
> Also, more plot elements have been introduced, and we all knew Sarge was lying about not putting a bomb on Locus' arm didn't we?


	11. Investigations

“This doesn’t make any sense. Only an idiot would pick this place to attack Locus the way they did.” Carolina was fuming as she examined the sniper’s nest that had taken most of the day to discover. With the two variables they had of sniper bullet and grenade the nest should have been in a different location than where they found it. But of course it fucking wasn’t. Once they had wasted time looking in the logical places they’d moved on to the illogical and of course that was where they’d finally found what they were looking for.

There should have been cameras working in the quad so they could get an angle the shot came from. There _had_ been cameras working in the quad until Locus stepped into it. And there were cameras working in the quad as soon as he was dragged out through the door because they were able to see everything afterward. 

Needless to say that was distressingly accurate when it came to a camera failure. There was no way it could be a coincidence to have it cut out like that so Simmons was looking through the camera footage for the last two weeks to see if there were other anomalies. 

Tucker had come with Carolina to search but he was mostly there as a back up, since he wasn’t trained in urban searches. She knew he had an eye for odd details and he was the best fighter of the group but right now she really missed Church. He’d make all of this so much easier. She had to concentrate on missing him for the inconvenience because if she thought too much about that empty hole in her mind where his voice used to be it ached so much it was hard to move. No one could afford that right now. 

“I mean, that’s a hell of a throw from here. Why would someone even bother?” Tucker was ignoring the remains of the sniper gear to look out the window at the target area. Carolina almost snapped at him to get back and not make himself a target but there wasn’t much of a chance that the sniper was still out there. “I wonder if Donut could hit it from here? Want me to call him?” 

Tucker was right. Why would someone throw a grenade when they had a sniper rifle? Grenades were messy, more often than not they hit people you didn’t intend them to hit, and they had a much shorter range. “I don’t think even he can hit it from here.” Carolina frowned underneath her helmet. There were two people involved. There had to be. But why would two such different methods team up together? “Go ahead and call him, let’s prove the grenade thrower was in a different spot.” 

“Yo, Donut.” Carolina rolled her eyes hearing Tucker call for Donut over the radio. All this time together and they still were terrible at protocol and professionalism. She’d given up on trying to change them but sometimes it still made her twitch to listen to them and have to force herself to keep from jumping in to tell them how to do it right. She tuned out Tucker arranging for Donut to come up and to bring a couple of practice grenades with him to examine the area again. 

There wasn’t a lot left behind. The shells had been taken with them, there were a few jugs of water but they’d already scanned them for dna traces and prints with no luck, and the weapon wasn’t left behind _but_ the gun mount that had been bolted to a board in front of the windowsill was still there and so was the framework that had been made to act like a blind so they could see out the window without anyone else looking in.

Mostly what that told Carolina from the angle to rifle had to be at and the fact there was a box to stand on was the shooter was short. She was sure they could come up with a specific height range but off the cuff they were probably in the 5’6 to 5’8 range unless they were crammed into the space in a really awkward way. There wasn’t any sense to take time to set up a base where you could observe over time then give yourself a slipped disc by staying in a crouched over hunch for days on end. 

So assuming that the shooter wasn’t stupid they weren’t going to be walking around with a backache and a rifle slung over their shoulder but that wasn’t a lot to go on. They were able to estimate how long it would take from the time of the shot, disassembling the rifle to make it out of the building. But they didn’t know which exit was used. Or even if the shooter had left immediately or if they had stayed to watch the chaos in the quad. 

“Hey Carolina.” Tucker pinged her on the private radio channel, pulling her away from her seventh or eighth examination of the rifle mount. “So uh, you think that the person that tried to wheel Locus out of recovery was the same person that shot him? I mean why would they shoot him if they wanted to take him?” 

“I think it was.” She turned away from the mount with a sense of frustration burning in her chest. Carolina wanted to be chasing after the target, taking action, but there wasn’t any action to take. If there were clear avenues of investigation she’d be all right but these moments where she felt like she was spinning her wheels going nowhere were the ones that made her want to grit her teeth and randomly kick things. Talking to Tucker gave her that outlet of needing to do something. Of course it didn’t mean that she was going to just hand him the answers. 

Besides, tormenting Tucker was kind of fun, and someone had to take over mentoring him while Wash was in the hospital and couldn’t be in the field.

Tucker was just looking at her, obviously waiting for her to expound on that statement but instead she just tilted her head to the side in the way she knew made her helmet look like it was grinning at whoever she was looking at and started counting. On seven he finally sighed loudly over the radio. “FINE. I’ll ask, so Carolina, what makes you think the asshole that shot Locus is the same guy that tried to wheel him out of recover?” 

The eye rolling came through clearly in Tucker’s tone and Carolina chuckled. “Because, Tucker, he was short.” The one thing they did know from the witness was that the person who impersonated hospital personnel was probably male, and pretty short. 

“Because he was short? What kind of bullshit answer is that?” Carolina winced slightly. Tucker had been hanging out with Wash too much because his voice just hit that screechy tone she was pretty sure was usually reserved for Wash and Simmons when they hit that level of frustration just above ‘all your shit is on the floor for the third day in a row’ and below ‘you ran over my foot with the Warthog’. 

And there was a reason she could be that specific with labels and levels. 

Tucker pulled his helmet off so he could actually glare at her and pointed like he was trying to skewer her with his finger. “You don’t pull off the cryptic bullshit as well as Wash so knock it the fuck off. I had to fucking sit on Wash when the weapons went off and he’s probably down there beating himself up for not being able to help and it sucks okay? Can you just answer the question?” 

“I know he is.” Carolina didn’t like having to go through this twice. The others had been off time traveling the first time Wash had to recover from being shot so they weren’t used to it and she had to keep reminding herself of that. Wash might never make it back to the field but it wasn’t the right time to have that talk. “Look, come here and I’ll show you. Stand on the box and pretend you’re aiming at the quad.” 

Tucker handed her his helmet with a suspicious look but he stepped up on the box and almost smacked his head on the top of the blind built around the window. When he adjusted for that and he lined up a pretend shot he ended up crouched over awkwardly with one elbow jammed into the side of the blind. “Fuck, were they a midget? I’m not even sure Jensen could do this.” 

“Ooh look at you jammed right in there Tucker, I didn’t know you liked to be shoved in all tight inside like that.” Donut’s cheery voice made Tucker jump and attempt to pull back out of the blind and he did hit his head this time with a loud thud as he slipped off the box and ended up sitting on the floor swearing loudly. 

Carolina had seen Donut coming so all she did was wait for Tucker to stop rubbing his head and handed him the helmet when he finally looked up at her. “And this is why we keep our helmets on in a potential combat zone. Head wounds are no fun.” She ignored whatever he was saying under his breath. Luckily he had remembered to turn off his radio so he wasn’t broadcasting it. Once his helmet was secured and Carolina felt like he was ready to pay attention again she gestured Donut over to the window.

“That’s where the grenade landed.” There wasn’t much of an opening in the blind an only a small section of the glass in the window was rigged to be removed. Carolina wouldn’t want to try to throw anything through it and hit the quad. She knew she could hit the target with a grenade launcher but once again, why do that if you have a sniper rifle? “You have the best arm so we want you to try to hit the target from here so we can see what happens.” Donut stepped forward and looked out the window but before he could say anything Carolina cleared her throat. “And please, don’t say the word hole, toss or penetration. It’s been a long day.”

Donut obviously recognized the dry humor in her voice because she practically felt him grinning behind his helmet when he turned to look at her. “Ooh hard mode, okey dokey no sexual innuendo. I will do my best to hold myself down and be a good boy.” 

Tucker groaned and put his hands up over the sides of his helmet, as if holding the audio inputs would somehow drown out Donut on the radio. “That was not better Donut. Just throw the fucking practice grenade already.” 

Donut had already wound up and threw the metal sphere out of the small opening when he heard Tucker and Carolina saw his shoulders go up as he lifted a hand to where his mouth would be behind his visor. “Oh..practice grenade...oops…”

Carolina quickly switched her radio to an open frequency and shouted for everyone to hit the ground just before the grenade went off below them. Not caring about evidence anymore she grabbed hold of the blind with both hands and yanked it away from the window so she could see how much damage there was. 

“What in the Sam Hell was that?” Sarge’s was yelling into his helmet mike so loudly that Carolina had no doubt if his helmet off she would still be able to hear him. Mainly because the roof over the room he’d been using as a workshop had a new hole in it from the explosion. “It was just an experiment that went a little wrong Sarge. Don’t worry about it. We’ll be back shortly to check in.” 

“YOU DIRTY BLUES BLEW U…”

Carolina flipped her radio off of the open channel and let out a tired sigh. “This is going to be fun to explain.” Kimball wasn’t going to be happy they were blowing holes in the buildings on top of everything else. At least there hadn’t been any screaming or alarms going off so chances were they hadn’t injured anyone. And maybe they’d gotten lucky and put some of Sarge’s more dubious experiments out of commission. 

“Uh, Carolina?” Tucker’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts, what the hell was wrong with her that she was getting distracted this easily? She’d had two weeks of recovery time so her ordeal in the underwater base shouldn’t be a factor anymore. That stupid saying about it not being the years but the mileage might be right and that didn’t make her happy. “What is it Tucker?”

“I mean I know I’m not an expert but that looks like it exploded before it hit the roof. So, how could the other grenade have hit the ground in the quad?” 

Donut put up his hand like a kid in class before he spoke up. “Oh, I know. It had to come from lower down right? Less time to fall and then it could hit the ground.” 

“Exactly.” Carolina would send someone up here with more scanners but she doubted they would find anything else in the room. She would have them concentrate on the hallways and nearby rooms just in case there was something a little further out that hadn’t been cleaned up as well. “There were different people. And I’m not convinced they were working together, they seemed to be after two completely different results. Let’s get back and talk to Jensen and Palomo. They probably didn’t catch where the grenade came from but we might get lucky.” 

She didn’t really believe that but with all of the cameras down the best they could do was read directionality from the marks the explosive left and see if there was any hint from the eyewitnesses. 

“I’ll check if Simmons got anything from the old camera feeds.” Donut’s immediate volunteering probably had more to do with staying away from Sarge until he calmed down than actually caring how the maroon sim trooper was doing with his task but at this point Carolina didn’t care. “All right, Donut will check with Simmons, Tucker you take the Lieutenants, and I’ll update Kimball.” 

“Ooh you’ll _update_ Kimball OW!” Carolina cut off Tucker with a ‘friendly’ punch in the arm that made him stagger a couple of steps to the side. “Fine, fuck, I’ll go check in with the nerds just stop hitting me.” 

Carolina chuckled as she led the way out the door and typed a quick message asking Kimball to meet her for an update. “I’ll meet you after and we’ll make a plan for next steps. And check on Wash and Locus will you?”

Tucker gave her a mocking salute. “Right mom, check on Wash and our pet Psychopath. On it. Come on Donut let’s let Carolina get on that updating.” She heard him laugh as he grabbed Donut and pulled him the opposite way down the hallway, leaving her behind. 

_Do I want to know about the new hole in the roof?_ Kimball’s message popped up on her HUD.

_Probably not._

_ _Ten minutes in my office then._ _

__Ten Four. I will be there._ Carolina hesitated, biting the inside of her lip under the helmet before she made a decision and smiled._

_ _Vanessa._ _

_Hitting her speed boost as soon as she hit send she was gone._


	12. Some things are personal

Wash had barely noticed when Grif and Simmons had come in to his room to start moving things around because the headache that started before Tucker had left had turned into a full blown rainbows around the lights migraine. Doctor Grey really hadn’t had specific answers for him on the headaches other than it was a by product of the brain damage and they would probably get better over time but he might always be prone to them, they’d just have to wait and see. 

Most of the time they were manageable but sometimes, like now, when they hit full force all he could do was sit there with his eyes closed against the lights and wait for the ride to stop. If he tried to move around or keep his eyes open the visual shifts made his stomach turn inside out and add to the misery.

He really only noticed that there were other people in the room when cool fingers touched his wrist to take his pulse. Metal. Simmons. His team. Knowing someone he trusted was there brought the tension down a notch and Wash could feel how fast his heart was beating through the pain. 

“Shouldn’t you use the other hand for that?” 

“How many times do I have to tell you Grif, we’ve outfitted sensors in the fingers that are more sensitive than human fingers. Just get out of the way and let me take care of this.” Wash knew that Simmons had grown and become more confident over the years but it was always amazing to watch the person he became when he knew exactly what to do. From the quick assessment of Wash and his condition, to the way he readied a syringe and gave him an injection to help with the migraine, his every movement was sure and steady. Wash was convinced that if no one was watching and judging him Simmons could do just about anything. Sometimes he wanted to give him a holographic lock to play with just to convince him that he could do it when he was in the zone like this. 

Of course today wouldn’t be that day because right now concentrating or talking weren’t possible until the headache lost its savage grip on him. The cool, metal fingers stayed on his wrist feeling his pulse and giving him a sensation to hold himself in the here and now. And Grif sat down in the chair next to his with his typical sprawl so that his knee touched Wash’s while he talked about nothing and everything to Simmons without drawing attention to anything else going on. 

Wash felt a warm rush of affection for the two of them as the migraine started to lighten up. Sure, they gave him shit and whined about him being melodramatic and too strict, and Grif would never let it go about all the laps that Wash had made him run, but they also did things like this for him. They made sure that they were there for him without drawing attention to it or making it awkward. Or, at least not making it more awkward than anything else they all did as a team. 

“Thanks, Simmons.” Wash could feel his voice cracking over the name and he made a face as his throat clicked and felt rusty when he tried to swallow. The warm spot that was Grif’s knee against his suddenly disappeared and the next thing he knew his fingers were being wrapped around a cup and when he lifted it for a drink he almost poked himself in the eye with the straw sticking out of it. 

Grif made an exasperated noise when Wash got himself with the straw and helped him readjust to actually drink from it instead of putting his eye out with it. “Geez dude, watch it will you? I did not find those for you just for you to injure yourself. If you do Carolina will _definitely_ forget all of her how to relax and not care lessons.”

When he got what for him? Wash finally opened his eyes when he finished drinking and the first thing he noticed was that the lights were back to just being lights. They were still a little too bright for his comfort but there weren’t any rainbows anymore. The second thing he noticed was that there was a neon red crazy straw in the plastic cup that Grif had handed him. “You got me crazy straws?” Wash could feel his lips tugging up into a grin as he looked at it. He hadn’t seen one of these in a long time.

“Don’t get weird dude. It’s just a straw.” Grif rolled his eyes but he couldn’t quite hide the smile for how Wash reacted to his gift. “Come on Simmons, we have to get that other bed in here and move crap around.” 

“Wait, you want to do work? I thought you were just going to make me move everything and pretend to help?” Simmons patted Wash’s wrist as he got up to get back to whatever it was they’d been about to do when they’d stopped to help him out. Grif snorted at Simmons’ question, “Yeah well that is still the plan but I have to get you moving to look like I’m helping don’t I, nerd?”

It turned out the plan was to put Locus in with Wash until he was allowed to get up and move around after being shot. Wash wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that. It wasn’t like Locus didn’t already spend most of his time around him but now it just felt like the dynamic was changing and he wasn’t sure he liked it. And he didn’t really feel like thinking about it so when Sarge joined Grif and Simmons in moving in another hospital bed and shoving furniture around while they all yelled at each other, Wash took out his data pad to see if his headache was abated enough to use it. Since it didn’t make him feel like squinting he tuned it in to check on Tucker and the others. 

At some point to keep Wash in the loop and make him feel better, Tucker had hooked up his data pad to the radios in their helmets so he could keep track of them if something was going on. At least that was the idea. Mostly what happened was Tucker and Caboose sent him memes and pictures of people and things around the hospital. Today was actually the first time it got used the way it was intended. 

Tucker had switched the Blue Team channel to voice to text while working with Carolina to keep Wash updated on the search for the shooter. Most of those updates consisted of Tucker playing what he called Freelancer bingo. Every time Carolina used a strategic term, or got dramatic he’d call out a number for it.

_You are just making that up Tucker._

_Nah man, Church made it for me._ There was a quiet ping indicating a file was sent to Wash’s data pad. Sure enough it was an actual bingo card made up with squares that were customized for working with Wash or Carolina. Wash had noticed that lately Tucker and Caboose were able to talk about Church a little easier than they had before. He was going to ask about that at some point but he forgot about it until each time it came up then he’d tell himself he was going to ask about it again. 

He was just about to send a message back telling Tucker he did not make dramatic speeches (space B-8) when he heard another grenade go off. 

_Tucker?_ Wash’s shoulders tensed as he typed out the quick inquiry to his teammate. He could see Grif and Simmons both reach for their helmets to get on the radios. Sarge was out the door without looking back or waiting. Wash desperately wanted to keep pinging Tucker for information but if there was a combat situation he didn’t want to distract him. Waiting for his teammate to respond started cranking up the headache that had mostly gone away after Simmons gave him the migraine medicine. Luckily, it seemed to stop on ‘someone is playing the bass drum on my head’ level instead of sending him right back into another migraine.

Wash realized he was tapping his fingers in agitation on the side of the data pad but before he could force himself to stop a new message pinged in from Tucker. _don’t freak. Friendly fire. Only casualty a roof_ There was a picture attached, taken from Tucker’s helmet cam of a roof that had part of it blown away. At least nothing was on fire. 

_Tukr did it_

_Caboose I did NOT. Get off the radio!_

Wash let out a deep breath and rubbed a hand over his face. Not being able to be out there and watch their backs was going to get really old really fast. Wash was glad they had Carolina but it was supposed to be him out there with them. 

_Dude, we’re calling it a day. I have to check in with the nerds but then I’ll check in. Let you see I don’t have any bullet holes in me._

_Grif and Simmons are here, which nerds are you checking on?_ Wash glanced up as the two he’d mentioned wheeled Locus in the door to his room. The ex mercenary wasn’t glowering nearly as much as Wash had expected after being shot and left at the mercy of the Reds. In fact he was staring at his hands with a blank expression while Grif called Palomo names and told him that he’d better take the handcuffs off of Locus. Wash watched Locus tuck his thumbs into his fingers as he closed his hands into fists while the handcuffs were removed without his expression changing. It was the same through the entire process of Locus being rolled to the bed and Grif helping him up into it. Simmons was supposed to be helping but apparently he was still worried that Locus was going to hurt him because every time the ex mercenary moved Simmons flinched away until Grif finally told him to go stand over by Wash and get the fuck out of the way.

Locus sat in bed and looked at the wall after that. Grif and Simmons left to go deal with Sarge, who was screaming at anyone unlucky enough to come near him about his work room, and were replaced with Tucker for his check in. Then when it was time for Tucker to go report in then Donut was coming through the door with a bag of chocolates in one hand and nail polish in the other.

So, he wasn’t going to be left to be on his own still. Wash wondered if that was Carolina’s doing to keep him from getting up to try to help or Kimball’s to keep someone able bodied there to keep Locus from leaving. He wasn’t going to ask. He watched Donut go over to Locus first, take out two of the chocolates and put them right next to the fist that was still loosely clenched on the covers before he came over to Wash to offer him his hand to help him out of the chair.

“Come on, up on the bed. It’ll be easier to do your nails that way.” 

Wash considered arguing. He didn’t like being in that bed, it made him feel like even more of an invalid and he hated that. But he’d been up walking laps, then hit with a migraine that felt a little like being hit by a truck so for once he decided against arguing and let Donut help him into the bed. Wash did most of the work he just couldn’t pick up his right leg enough to get it onto the bed and Donut only helped enough to get the leg the last few inches up. 

Wash was never going to admit that it felt a lot better to be lying down now. He hadn't realized just how exhausted he was. Donut picked up his right hand and started to massage the palm and the webbing between his fingers. It was a ritual before putting on the nail polish that used to make Wash very uncomfortable because it meant he had to spend more time with Donut and remember shooting him the whole time. Now it was something he could enjoy since the guilt was gone for reasons he couldn’t quite remember.

Donut didn’t take long to start talking once he was massaging Wash’s hand. “I’m leaving soon. You know, spend a little time on my own figure out who Donut is without being thrust up deep in all my boys…er well you know this innuendo thing is really...okay hard wouldn’t be a good word to use there…” 

Listening to Donut and the innuendos really didn’t bother Wash anymore but he couldn’t help but smile a little listening to him stammer and try to come up with something that wasn’t going to edge on inappropriate or just sound flat out wrong. “Just say whatever Donut, I don’t care. I am going to miss having you around but I’m glad you waited until I was a little better to do it.” He got it. He hated not having all of the team right there where they could watch over each other but if anyone could understand needing to take time to figure out who you were it was Wash. 

“So, you’re not doing that whole ‘can’t look at Donut’ thing anymore. That’s good.” Donut looked up with a smile while he stopped massaging Wash’s hand and picked up the nail polish to shake it up. “I’d hate to go back to that. You were the one that believed in me in the Everwhen, I mean the rest got there but you believed in me from the start. And I know you don’t remember it yet but I do.” 

Memory was the key, but what did it mean when you lost the memories? Wash was sure there was some horrible joke analogy about losing your keys but he didn’t find that funny at all. “I wish I could remember all of that. I hear all of you tell me the stories and most of it feels almost like I’m hearing it for the first time every time I hear it.” Every stroke of the polish down his nails was cold and the smell of it stung Wash’s eyes and nose but there was something soothing about it at the same time. 

“You know we’ll tell you as many times as you want to hear it.” Donut kept his attention on Wash’s hand while he was painting carefully with the little brush. “And maybe parts of it will come back to you if you hear it enough as you heal.” 

“Maybe.” Wash shrugged lightly and turned to look at the other bed. Locus must have been given some of the good pain medication because he was asleep with other people in the room. Wash had never seen the ex-mercenary relaxed the way he was right now in sleep. The marks of underlying tension and wariness were erased making him almost look like a stranger. 

“I’m not sure how Sam is doing.” As soon as he said the name Wash was confused. He hadn’t meant to say that at all.

“Sam?” Donut looked up sharply from Wash’s hands at the name and looked over at Locus in the other bed before he looked back. “Who is…?” 

Wash shook his head quickly. “I don’t know where that came from.” He tried to remember but it felt like his thoughts slid sideways into the jumbled mess that were his memories from around the time he was shot. The only thing that he could force into focus was seeing blood smeared across the ex-mercenary’s face highlighting the scar and a feeling like he couldn’t breathe. “Locus. I’m not sure how Locus is doing.”

Donut was still looking at him with a thoughtful frown but he finally shook himself and capped the bottle of polish and put it aside. “Well, probably Locus is the only one that can answer that. You’ll need to ask him.” 

“Oh I’m sure he’ll answer me if I ask. I’ll get right on that.” Wash rolled his eyes and forced himself to look away from Locus and back at Donut who was rolling his chair to the other side of the bed so he could work on Wash’s other hand. It didn’t help because now when he looked at Donut, Locus was in the bed behind him so he could see him anyway. He was still asleep even with the talking and Donut moving his chair which made Wash upgrade his opinion on the pain medication they must have given him. It wasn’t just the good stuff, it was the _really_ good stuff. 

Donut tsked and picked up Wash’s other hand and started massaging it. “You are never going to do it with that attitude mister. What he needs right now is someone to teach him how to be a person again. Who do you think is going to do that?”

Wash had started watching Locus over Donut’s shoulder without realizing it but he yanked his attention back to Donut as soon as he realized what he was doing. “I know you’re not talking about me. I barely know how to do that myself sometimes.” 

“But you’re learning. All you have to do is let Locus see that and maybe he’ll start to figure it out himself.” Donut let go of his hand briefly as he reached for the bottle of polish then caught hold of Wash’s fingers to hold them still. “I mean, would you have let me do this after the guys first picked you up on Sidewinder?”

It was a good point. Wash was injured, confused half of the time, and he was letting someone hold down his one good weapon hand with a known enemy in the room with them. He never would have trusted any of them back then when his idea of trusting them included locking his room and barricading the door with the footlocker they’d given him before he’d felt secure enough to get a few hours of sleep and never taking any food they handed him in case it was drugged or tampered with. Sometimes Wash forgot just how different of a person he was from the Agent Washington he’d been.

He didn’t answer the question but that was obviously enough of an answer for Donut who let the subject drop. It was several minutes before either of them said anything else. 

Donut paused in applying the polish and glanced over his shoulder at Locus, who was still completely out of it with that foreign look of relaxation and peace. “Do you think his name actually is Sam?”

Wash’s memory wouldn’t give him more than that brief glimpse of Locus’ face and the feeling of suffocation no matter how hard he pushed at it. _Locus...Sam_. He tested out the name silently and finally nodded when Donut looked back at him. “But don’t tell the others. Names are - well they’re…” He faltered and finally grimaced without completing the thought. Wash wasn’t exactly sure what he was trying to say, or maybe he was trying to say too many things at once. He was just so tired and things were all starting to get even more muddled in his head than they usually were. 

“Let’s just say names are personal. It’s as good of a reason as any.” Donut smiled at Wash and squeezed his wrist when he finished with the last fingernail. “And I won’t say a word.” He sketched a quick X over his chest then scooted his chair so he was facing the same way as Wash and leaned back in his chair, obviously planning to stay for a while. 

Wash felt the exhaustion that had been slowly dragging him down hit the tipping point where his eyes started to close. Hearing Donut picking up some of Tucker’s magazines and rifling through them while making little disapproving sounds at the ‘fashion’ choices was so familiar that it let him drift off into easy sleep for a change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled so much with the ending of this one, something about Donut I swear! 
> 
> So we're almost done with the first arc of the story, which I plan to wrap up with the Locus chapter, then because we're starting a new arc it will be Locus again. Hope no one is tired of him since he'll go twice in a row. 
> 
> Also! Go look at the super pretty art I commissioned for this on Tumblr. [Pretty things from Creatrixanimi here](https://moonanstars124.tumblr.com/post/190596990232/beautiful-artwork-i-commissioned-from) go love on her and her work, it's always so amazing.


	13. Choices

“Now, you need to keep the sling on for at least a week. The healing unit and the surgery did most of the work but if you move that arm too much or try to lift any weight with it you will tear the wound open and I will be very cross.” Doctor Grey had basically pounced Locus as soon as he’d managed to come out from under the pain medication they’d given him the night before. 

It had been difficult to sit still and not strike out at her when Doctor Grey had grabbed onto his arm to poke and prod at his shoulder while he was still gathering his wits about him. Somehow, he’d managed to hit the tray of instruments instead of the doctor. The sharp clash of the instruments hitting the floor along with the tray made both the doctor and Washington go still and watch him closely.

Once they realized he wasn’t going to do anything else Grey had retrieved the sling from the floor and approached Locus again. She hesitated a few seconds with her lips pursed into a thoughtful expression before she took his arm and, more gently this time, worked it into the sling and fastened it.

“No shower until tomorrow, the bandages will have to stay on until then and you can’t get them wet.” Doctor Grey smoothed the straps down to secure them after she fastened them at the length she wanted. “What level would you rank your pain?” 

Now that the pain medication they had given him after surgery had worn off it felt like he had a hot poker shoved through his shoulder. Locus moved the arm that wasn’t in the sling and rolled his head on his neck feeling each movement pull at his injured shoulder. It was enough pain Locus felt himself break out in a cold sweat and he had to swallow back a groan. “It’s fine.” 

“I would have an easier time believing that if you weren’t turning paler than Agent Washington right now.” The doctor and Locus both ignored the indignant ‘hey!’ from the other bed. “But it’s what I expected. So, take these. They’ll take the edge off and won’t make you sleep. Just make sure and eat.” She handed him a paper cup with two pills in it. Locus recognized them as the same kind that Washington took now and knew they were basically generic NSAIDs.

Locus took the cup and downed the pills, swallowing them dry, and handed the cup back with a nod. He had to repress the urge to open his mouth and prove that he’d swallowed the medication. As it was the doctor looked at him with that same expression of dissecting him with her thoughts before she smiled thinly and took the cup, crumpling it in her hand. “You can move around just remember your restrictions.” And with that she turned on her heel and left the room. 

He’d been told he could move around so Locus carefully swung his legs out of his bed and stood up. The instruments he’d knocked off the table with the tray were still scattered across the floor so he moved carefully around them with his bare feet on the way to the small bathroom attached to Washington’s room. Once he was there Locus used the arm not in the sling to empty his bladder and splash water over his face. 

Even that little bit had him clinging to the edge of the sink breathing deeply until the pain in his shoulder ebbed. The day after was always the worst when you were injured. All Locus had to do was make it through today and he’d be fine. The pills would kick in shortly and make it bearable, or at least as bearable as it could be trapped and injured.

Locus could feel his hair sticking to the dampness of his face on his way back into the room. Without thinking he made his way to the small stash of personal items he had accumulated while he was here and pulled out a brush and hair tie. When he tried to take the tie with his left hand and was pulled up short by the sling he growled under his breath in frustration. Of course he wouldn’t be able to tie his hair back with one hand. 

“Do you want help?” Washington had been watching him quietly but Locus hadn’t been paying attention in return. It said something that he felt safe in tuning the Freelancer out while they were in the same room. Unfortunately, tuning him out meant Locus hadn’t been expecting a voice and he startled slightly sending a lance of pain through his shoulder so that he ended up holding the brush in a white knuckled grip waiting for it to pass.

Locus looked over his shoulder at Washington but the man didn’t seem to notice his discomfort. He was sitting on the edge of his own bed with his feet on the step they’d put there to make it easier for him to get in and out of it on his own with the bag of toiletries he used every morning as part of his occupational therapy. They made Washington brush his short scrub of hair every morning even though it didn’t really need it. He was probably just thinking of it as more therapy.

There was nothing harmful in it but Locus still hesitated. He remembered watching Washington lick his lips when he first gave him water and that warm huff of his breath that had sent pleasant shivers down Locus’ neck and spine and the thought of Washington’s hands in his hair just didn’t seem like a good idea. 

He wasn’t stupid. Locus knew that part of his troubles relating to other human beings was how separate he kept himself. He purposefully avoided physical contact and attachments. That was how he separated any emotions from situations. Locus also knew that he couldn’t keep emotions completely separated forever.

“I would...appreciate help.” Asking for or accepting help was never going to be one of his favorite things but Washington didn’t look as if he minded the hesitant and slightly sullen tone from Locus. He just nodded and held out his left hand for the brush and hair tie as Locus pulled a chair up to sit in. Washington put his feet on the floor and stood up from the bed to take one step/shuffle forward to where he could reach Locus’ hair. 

He stood there long enough without touching him or saying anything that Locus was tempted to tell Washington never mind he’d be okay with his hair the way it was. Before he could decide whether he should just get up and walk away or not the brush was lightly tugging at his hair. He’d expected it but he still flinched at the touch and had to wait through another stab of pain from his shoulder. 

The brush hesitated as if the man was waiting to see what Locus was going to do then Washington used his other hand to hold his hair while he started to work through a tangle so he wouldn’t pull too hard on Locus’ scalp. “Tell me if I need to stop.” 

There wasn’t anything Locus really wanted or trusted himself to say to that so he just grunted and shrugged his good shoulder. It could have meant just about anything, Locus wasn’t even sure what he meant himself, but Washington apparently took it as permission to continue. At first Locus was so tense he could feel the tremble in the muscles of his arms and hands. That kept sending little shocks of pain through his shoulder that made him grit his teeth. It had been a long time since he trusted anyone to touch him and he was waiting for the help to turn into torment.

But the hand in his hair was gentle and warm against his scalp as Washington slowly picked the tangles out and ran the brush through the length of his hair. His control with his right hand was still very shaky which meant he was taking his time with it. Slowly, the muscles in Locus’ arms relaxed. Between relaxing and the pills he’d been given the pain ebbed out of his shoulder. Nothing bad happened and neither of them said anything. The silence was more relaxing than anything. None of the rest of them could shut up for five minutes and more than anything since coming to Chorus Locus missed quiet.

He wasn’t sure when he relaxed enough that he was leaning into the fingers in his hair instead of sitting up rigidly still. Locus’ neck rolled with Washington's touch from side to side and forward so the other man could gather his hair into a tail and wrap the hair tie around it. Once the hair was secured the silence stretched out comfortably until Washington laid his hand lightly on the back of Locus’ neck. The sudden warm weight startled Locus enough he hitched his breath in a small gasp but when nothing else happened he slowly raised his head and turned enough to look at Washington out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m not used to seeing soldiers without neural implants.” The hand was still on his neck with a warm comforting weight and Locus wasn’t sure what Washington was doing. He should get up, he should move away from the hand but Locus couldn’t force himself to do it. Slowly he let himself turn forward again and he gave the slightest of shakes of his head. “We weren’t valuable enough soldiers for that kind of equipment. You were a suit of armor and a gun.”

“I know. I was UNSC before the project.” Washington’s voice was quiet.

He still hadn’t moved his hand. Locus found himself leaning back slightly into the fingers cupped around the back of his neck and letting his eyes drift shut. It was the Freelancer’s weak hand which meant that Locus could feel the slight involuntary shake in the fingers against his skin like Washington was trembling. 

“We need to talk.” Carolina’s clipped voice from the doorway made Locus jerk away from the hand on his neck. He moved away and stood up in one quick motion before the pain from moving caught up with him and he ended up catching himself on the back of the chair with a growl under his breath. Carolina was looking at Washington with her brows up but in the end she just let out a long breath through her nose and didn’t say anything about it.

“So, we have information.” Carolina sat on the edge of Washington’s bed. “There were at least two people involved in the attack in the quad. One with grenades and one with the rifle. There’s no evidence that they had the same goal in mind.” 

Locus realized he was still holding on to the footboard of his bed like it was helping to keep him upright. Neither Freelancer was looking at him like it was doing anything unusual so he slowly let go and stood up straight again. “One wanted to kill, the other did not.” 

“Exactly. Also, one didn’t care how much of a body count there was if they took you out or they would have been more careful with the grenade.” Carolina’s eyes narrowed and her jaw clenched in anger. Collateral damage of her friends was not a good way to get to her good side. 

Washington had stayed by the chair and was using the back of it to hold himself steady. “From what you said it wasn’t just that the other one didn’t want to kill Locus. He wanted to take him.” 

Locus’ discomfort was forgotten as he remembered what the Doctor had told him the day before. If it hadn’t been for the ridiculous device Sarge put on his wrist someone would have succeeded in removing him. “You will have this removed now, correct?” He lifted his arm to show Sarge’s cuff still on it and the growl was back in his voice. 

Carolina looked irritated by his question but after a quick glance at Washington took a breath and nodded. “Sarge is coming shortly to disarm you. That’s not the problem. The problem is that Simmons finished looking through the footage of all the security cameras around the hospital and our rooms. Every time Locus is near one the footage is gone.” 

“Someone is wiping my footage?” That didn’t make much sense to Locus. He frowned, it made more sense to keep the footage and show it as evidence of his existence. “Why?”

“They aren’t wiping the footage. The cameras just stop working when you are around.” Carolina wrapped the ends of her fiery hair around a finger and tugged on it while she was thinking. “Simmons took a while to figure it out. There was a program embedded in the normal security set up that used facial recognition to turn off recording while Locus was there. It was pretty high tech, the monitors still worked in real time but the recording just stopped.” 

Washington let go of the back of the chair with his face troubled and looked between Locus and Carolina. “Carolina, if someone is going to all that trouble we aren’t going to be able to protect him.” 

“That’s why we’re leaving.” Carolina stood up and looked at Locus. She studied him like a commander, looking him over with a quick glance and nodding to herself. 

Locus found himself standing straighter and waiting without thinking as she assessed him. He was irritated at himself for reacting that way. Locus was waiting for his orders. Orders were easy, you followed them and you didn’t have to think. It took a huge burden from your shoulders to follow orders and he found himself not just waiting for an order but desperately wanting to be given one.

“Carolina.” Washington’s voice was surprisingly sharp and when she turned he shook his head at her. “You can’t tell him what to do.” 

It was obvious by looking at her expression that Carolina sure as hell felt like she could tell him what to do. She and Washington looked at each other for a long time before she finally crossed her arms and grumbled something Locus didn’t catch under her breath. “Fine! I’ll go talk to the others but we are talking about this later.” She glared at each of them one last time before she stalked out of the room.

This time the silence wasn’t comfortable.

“If we’re leaving you have three options.” Washington took the spot Carolina had been in and sat on the edge of his bed. On the surface it was probably to make everything look casual but Locus knew it was so he wouldn’t have to use the cane or the back of the chair to keep his still uncooperative leg from collapsing under him. It was difficult to appear in control if you fell on your face. 

“One. You can stay on Chorus.” Locus shook his head to dismiss that option even as Washington said it. Staying on Chorus involved a jail cell, trial, and an execution should the potential assassin let him live that long. He wouldn’t be allowed his armor and weapons and other than Palomo, who was still terrified of him, none of the others would speak to him voluntarily. “I think we both know my answer to that option.” 

“Right. So option two. We smuggle you onto your ship and we make sure you get off Chorus and back to what you were doing before you stopped to help us.” Washington was better than the Reds and Blues at hiding his expressions but it was still obvious he didn’t like this option and that surprised Locus. Wouldn't it be better for them to all be rid of him?

When he looked down to hide his own confusion Locus caught sight of the chipped green on his fingernails. _You give meaning to meaningless objects and meaningless people, and risk your lives to protect them. Where's the sense in that?_. He’d asked Washington that back in the Federal compound a lifetime ago but now looking at the color on his nails and seeing the chocolates that someone had left by his hand while he was sleeping Locus was starting to feel like maybe he understood it a little.

“What is the third option?” Locus tucked his thumbs into his fists so the color couldn’t be seen and looked at the Freelancer. 

“Come home with us.” Washington said it with a little huff of laughter as if that should have been obvious. “Not because we ordered it but because you’re invited. You will still be able to do what you’ve been doing trying to help people but you’d have a place to come back to.” 

Invited. Home. Words that were appealing and dangerous at the same time. 

“Look, you can’t make things right if you’re still taking someone else’s orders. I know, I…I...” And Washington stuttered and trailed off making Locus suspected he’d hit a memory snag. Locus wondered if the others saw the subtle terror that shadowed Washington’s eyes when the things he should know just weren’t there for him. He watched Washington struggle for a few seconds before he finally just moved on with what he was saying. “It doesn’t matter how I know. What’s important is you have to be the one actively deciding what to do or you aren’t fixing anything. You’re just following better orders and that isn’t the point.” 

“But you can’t learn how to be human again if you aren’t around people.” Washington opened up the drawer next to his bed and took out something that he put down on the tray on the cart next to the bed. “It’s up to you.” 

The small bottle of sage green polish sat there. 

All Locus had to do was say he wanted to get back on A'rynasea and leave and he could go. He had no doubt they would somehow get him off the planet and away from Kimball. He also had no doubt that they would try to put a tracker on his ship and keep an eye on him like he was some stray pet they were trying to take care of. 

Locus could handle that. A'rynasea would help him lose any watchers and he would be free to go back to the way things should be.

But should he?

That wasn’t an easy question. 

Locus didn’t say anything while he thought through his options and Washington didn’t press him for an answer. Once again the silence had turned into something comfortable. It was silence without feeling pressure to make noise. 

It was Tucker apologizing for Locus getting caught and sharing his magazines with him.

It was Simmons opening his chocolates even though he was scared of Locus and Grif being pissed off that someone put cuffs on him in a wheelchair. 

It was also Sarge covering him after he’d been shot and somehow saving him with that ridiculous bomb strapped to his wrist. 

It was Donut leaving the bottle of green polish so others would remember to take care of Locus when he wasn’t there.

And it was the warm weight of trembling fingers against his neck.

Locus reached out to pick up the bottle off the tray. “I will let Agent Carolina know she’s getting her way. It should improve her mood before you have to speak with her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is the end of part one! The next part picks up several months after this with more surprises and action. Thanks for reading along, I never intended to write almost 40K words just for the first arc of the story but I also didn't want to shirk on the character development and interaction. 
> 
> Part two will pick up with Locus again and shouldn't be as long of a wait. Part of the delay on this chapter was my brain wanting to skip ahead to the next part so it's already half written. 
> 
> Thanks again to everyone leaving Kudos and comments, they are my crack!


	14. Recovery

They had been on Iris for almost five months. 

The remote moon hadn’t changed from the state it was in when Locus came for Grif. There were the remains of two bases that had been burned down and the beginnings of a base they’d built from the supplies they had left. There weren’t enough rooms, or privacy, and they still color coded and divided everything by red and blue. The ship they’d used to get them there had been stacked to the roof with new supplies for building and Kimball had sent escort ships filled with new food and medical supplies. 

Locus spent one night in the base when they first arrived but the feeling of too many bodies in the small space kept him from relaxing or sleeping. After that he took his things and slept in A'rynasea instead of the base. The ship was small but the door locked securely and there was no one there to judge if he sat up and listened to stray transmissions instead of sleeping. 

Most of the Reds and Blues were fascinated by A'rynasea but for the most part Locus’ presence kept them admiring from afar. Kept everyone other than Sarge and Caboose admiring from afar that was. Sarge had demanded a tour, offered advice for converting the ship to diesel, and came back regularly with suggestions and offers to let Lopez help him maintain the ship. Caboose just seemed to not care how many times he was told to stay out of the ship. The first time Locus caught him at it he’d just said hello to Locus with Freckles in one hand and waving with the other and went right up the ramp into the ship. After the third time he found Caboose inside talking to the ship’s AI Locus took the precaution of removing the drive coil. A'rynasea seemed to like the childlike blue soldier and the last thing anyone needed was for Caboose to take off with Locus’ ship for an adventure. 

Grif would come to the ship and check on Locus every few days. He would drag Simmons with him along with several bottles of beer and they would drink and bicker while Locus sat there and listened. The silence when they left was a relief. And yet Locus still found himself making sure that some evenings there was a small heater set up outside the ship to sit around while they drank so they could be comfortable.

Tucker told him that all the attention was because the red team had adopted Locus to their side without asking. Locus told him he was ridiculous and scoffed at the idea but then he’d find himself bookended at the table by Sarge and Grif the few times he was convinced to show up and eat with them. Privately he had to admit that perhaps Tucker wasn’t that wrong. He still wasn’t a Red. He wasn’t a Blue either. 

Five months of therapy and intense practice had almost erased Agent Washington’s physical symptoms. There was some lingering weakness on his right side from the brain and nerve damage but it wasn’t that noticeable unless you knew him before the injury. The worst remaining physical symptom was way his right foot still tended to drop when he walked so Washington wore a brace to keep him from dragging his toes and catching on things to avoid stumbling and falling.

The non physical injuries were more difficult to quantify. Things that Washington performed with mostly muscle memory came easily as long as he didn’t think too much about them. New skills took a long time for him to learn and involved ceaseless repetition until they could be remembered halfway reliably. On his bad days he could forget everything from who he was to where they were and why they were there. 

To work on his recovery Washington had started first with walks around the base. Then he graduated to running once he had the orthotic to keep him from catching his toes. When he was tired of running in circles he bullied Tucker and Carolina into sparring with him. Locus had watched the sessions with Washington learning how to move and trust his muscle memory again and noticed that afterward they rarely saw Carolina for the rest of the night. 

Locus tracked Carolina down one evening when she didn’t appear for the evening and found her where she’d set up one of those little camp chairs with her own little pile of bottles from Grif’s stash of beer by her side on an upended wire spool she was using as a table. She had made a fairly good dent in the bottles which seemed out of character for her from what he knew of her personally as well as from her Freelancer files.

“What do you want?” Carolina’s question was sharp and impatient.

“I would like to train with Agent Washington. I believe as you are in charge of his training so I need your approval.” Locus decided that being direct was always the best policy with the Freelancers. He’d learned to blunt that directness when dealing with the Reds and Blues after he’d made Simmons cry several times.

Carolina took a drink from her current bottle of beer before she answered him. “I thought he told you to stop calling him Agent?” 

“I call both of you Agent. It doesn’t seem to bother you.” Locus hated when he was direct and what he said was returned with a subject that made no sense to him. He didn’t know why she was asking and all it earned him was an amused snort from Carolina.

“That’s because we’re not friends.” She pointed at him around the bottle. “Why do you want to train with Wash?”

Was she saying that Locus and Washington were friends? He frowned and crossed his arms because Carolina wasn’t right if that was what she meant. Allies? Maybe. Friends? No. You couldn’t be friends with someone like Locus. He ignored the little voice in his head that reminded him Caboose called him their scary friend because it was irrelevant. 

“If Agent Washington only trains with people he’s familiar with you can’t gauge his true skill level. Training with me will let him stretch his skills because he doesn’t instinctively know what I will do as he does with you and his team.” Locus was doing his best to keep his tone from being challenging or irritated but he wasn’t sure he was succeeding. Dealing with Carolina made him impatient switching as she did between demanding immediate answers and playing word games. Locus never knew exactly what kind of encounter it would be with her. 

Carolina studied him long enough that Locus was ready to turn and leave rather than ending up starting a fight when she finally spoke up. “You’re right.” She held out an unopened bottle of beer to him. He hesitated while he tried to interpret her motivations but finally reached out and took the bottle from her. It was cold enough that little rivulets of condensation ran down his fingers and Locus used a fingertip to make a pattern in it before he caught himself and wiped the bottle clean with his hand. 

“I can’t be the one to spar with Wash.” Carolina wasn’t looking at him. Instead she was picking at the corner of the label on the bottle she’d half finished. She didn’t continue immediately so Locus twisted the cap off the beer and took a drink to complete the social ritual you were supposed to follow when someone offered you something. Carolina still didn’t look up from the half mangled label but she stopped trying to peel it. “You can start tomorrow.” 

There didn’t seem to be much more to say after that. Locus took one more drink and left the bottle on the spool table beside her on his way. Carolina didn’t seem to notice he’d left but when he glanced back just before rounding the corner of the building he glanced back and she’d started gathering up the bottles and the camp chair. No doubt she’d be back at her perimeter checks soon with no evidence left behind.

The first week that he and Washington sparred was memorable. They were both overcompensating leading to rookie mistakes and frustrating the hell out of both of them. After one memorable session when Locus walked away to dump water over his head he made the mistake of passing Grif who looked at him like he wasn’t sure who he was.

“I thought you were a good fighter, what the fuck dude?” A lazy smirk broke through on Grif’s face when he said it and Locus didn’t realize just how irritated he was until he hit Grif’s shoulder hard enough to make him hold his shoulder and scramble to put some distance between them. Of course as soon as he was out of reach he was laughing at Locus while bitching about the bruise he was going to have. 

Locus ignored all of them and stalked away to lock himself in A'rynasea for the evening so he didn’t have to deal with the rest of the Reds and Blues while he got his composure back. Grif was right. Locus was a good fighter. Washington was good, even recovering from his injuries. They just needed to stop working at it like it was the past. He and Washington were both different people now but they were trying to wade into the fight like it was Chorus and they were still on opposite sides. 

The next day with his irritation firmly in check, Locus banned everyone from the training room but himself and Washington. It created a lot of whining but Carolina backed him up and made them pack up the popcorn and get out of the room before Locus had to ask them twice.

Without the audience they started back at the beginning of combat training. For several days all they did were basic warm up exercises with each other. Strike, block, counterstrike. Over and over they performed nothing but these moves against each other until they stopped thinking and just did what came naturally. Once that happened they started to spar again cautiously and if there was any sign they were reverting or Washington was getting frustrated either he or Locus would call it off and they’d go back to warm ups. 

After two weeks of that Carolina had shown up one morning with a small duffle bag over her shoulder and joined Locus on his way to spar without saying anything. Locus watched her out of the corner of his eye as they approached the training room but wasn’t any the wiser for why she was there when they arrived. Carolina waved at Wash who muttered something under his breath that Locus couldn’t quite hear and rubbed his good hand over his face. Locus suspected it was to hide rolling his eyes since he was pinching the bridge of his nose in order to do the same thing. 

Carolina sat to the side on one of the chairs with the duffel by her feet and waved at them to get on with it. 

“Warm up?” Washington stepped onto the mat and shook out his arms. He seemed to be avoiding looking at Carolina by putting his back to her. Locus looked past him at the other freelancer who was leaning forward with her elbows on her knees and her hands laced together under her chin and decided Carolina was here to judge their progress. It was unclear what her actual attitude was at the moment but to Locus she looked amused. 

Locus gave one sharp nod to Washington in agreement and put his entire attention on his opponent. The warm up was comfortable and familiar, something they could do and ignore their audience of one. Strike, block, counterstrike. They started a half tempo with each strike hitting against the block with a sharp sound of contact before they stepped up the speed. Right hand, left hand, right kick, strike, block counterstrike. It was the same set of movements over and over. 

Just because it was a warm up didn’t mean it was easy. By the time they finally broke from the repetitive warm up motions Locus’ shirt was sticking to the sweat trickling down his back and chest. 

This time when they broke the routine it was Washington that started it with another right jab instead of flowing into a kick like they did in the warm up. From there both of them moved smoothly into a normal sparring match. Locus wasn’t too busy concentrating on the match to not catch Carolina digging in her duffel before she got up and left halfway through the match but he was too busy to pay much attention to anything he didn’t have to defend against. 

The match ended with a low sweep against Washington’s weaker leg that dumped him on his back and left him swearing. Locus waited for the swearing to stop before offering Washington a hand up. He had learned the hard way that trying to be helpful too soon was only inviting getting his hand slapped away. Learning that lesson had been quick. It had taken much longer to realize just because Washington pushed or slapped him away didn’t mean he wanted Locus to leave. 

Carolina had taken the duffel with her but there was something left behind in the chair. Once Washington was on his feet Locus went to see what she’d left behind. When he realized what she’d left behind Locus picked up one of the bottles of beer from the chair where Carolina had left it and looked at Washington with a sigh. “This is her version of rewarding me with chocolate, isn’t it?” It was as if Donut had left instructions for everyone on the subject. 

Washington let out a strangled sound before he covered his mouth with his hand but the amusement was glinting in his eyes and his shoulders were shaking as he tried not to laugh. He was only about halfway successful and more of those sharp sounds of amusement escaped from behind his hand. Locus frowned at him waiting for Washington to get a grip on himself. Feeling the laughter directed at him made his gut turn sour. The other Reds and Blues laughed at him all the time but it was different coming from Washington. 

Several deep breaths later Washington finally was able to lower his hand without any more laughs escaping. “I’m sorry...do you want me to tell her you like chocolates better?” 

He wasn’t laughing any more but there was a free and easy smile on Washington’s face that Locus hadn’t ever seen before. It started to smooth out the knots in his midsection. Locus still had the remains of a frown as he picked up one of the bottles to examine before he handed it over to Washington to take if he wanted it. “I would appreciate it.”

Washington took the bottle and when Locus picked up the other one he tapped the two bottles together with a quiet clink. “I’m going to say we passed whatever graduation exercise we were taking.” 

Since Locus had come to the same conclusion he just snorted quietly and took the bottle away from Washington so he could replace both the bottles on the chair. “We’re not done yet Agent Washington. Back on the mat.” 

“And you just had to ruin it didn’t you?” Washington didn’t hold back on rolling his eyes openly at Locus. Instead of the mat he moved over to the racks of practice weapons and pulled out a set of knives. “How about we take class outside and change things up a little?” 

Locus hesitated. They were inviting an audience if they moved out of the practice room but that was going to happen eventually. He walked to the rack and took out a second set of knives and ran his thumb over them to make sure the edges were dulled. Things had a habit of being in the wrong place around the Reds and Blues and he’d rather there were no stitches needed. Just the feel of their weight in his hand and the rough edge of the cool metal against his thumb put that sick feeling back in his stomach. 

Knives were Felix’s weapon. Locus had always preferred to be distant to the fight if he could arrange it. He liked to watch the battle through the scope of a rifle or move through it without being seen so he wasn’t directly a part of it. Felix had been the opposite of Locus in so many ways. He wanted to be up close, to make the pain last as long as he could. Every cut had made Felix feel alive. Locus felt nothing when he killed. 

He couldn’t do it. Holding the knives made him feel like he needed to scrub his palms against something to remove the feel of the hilts against his skin. Locus racked the knives with a quick motion and picked up gloves and armor for his forearms instead. “Bring the knives, we’ll use the clearing near A'rynasea.” Locus turned on his heel and left without waiting to see if Washington’s reaction and if he wanted to say anything he was going to have to catch up unless he wanted to shout it at him. 

By the time Washington caught up with him in the clearing Locus had put on the gloves and fastened the guards on his forearms. If he’d tightened them a little too much to give himself something to center on no one would know but himself. He thought that Washington might say something about his exit from the training room but when nothing was forthcoming he took a deep breath and gestured to Washington to begin.

Sparring bare handed against someone with knives took concentration no matter how good you were and it was easy for Locus to lose himself in the rhythm of the practice. Washington was very good with the blades but despite being ambidextrous he was used to leading with his right side so Locus was able to block and redirect most of what was coming at him for now.

Locus was in mid-motion after blocking one of the practice knives and moving through to redirect the second knife when he saw Washington’s eyes flick away from tracking what Locus was doing to look over his shoulder. 

“Get down.” It was said quietly but Locus immediately let his right leg collapse and tucked to the side as he was falling to turn it into a roll out of Washington’s way. There was the sound of metal on metal as the first knife hit something. Locus came up out of the roll into a crouch and saw a flash of purple and the second knife streaked across the clearing as the intruder came out of the bushes raising their gun.

The second knife didn’t tumble the way it should so it hit the gun flat against the barrel knocking it slightly to the side instead of hitting the hand holding it. It still gave Washington enough time to take the step to the side and pull the rifle Locus kept tucked into the heater and chairs that were stacked up for when Grif brought beer and swing it around to aim at the intruder. Locus could see his right hand was already shaking slightly where he gripped the rifle but his left hand on the trigger was steady.

“I didn’t think your injuries had healed enough to throw the knives. My mistake.” The intruder hadn’t dropped or lowered the gun in his hand and he was assessing the situation with narrowed eyes when the muzzle of a rifle nudged the back of his head. 

“Drop it.” Carolina could be damn quiet when she wasn’t in her armor. Locus should have realized that someone was watching when they left the building. He had been too wrapped up in his own head to pay proper attention.

Locus didn’t go for a weapon. He didn’t need to defend himself from an old partner. At least he _hoped_ he didn’t need to defend himself from this one. He did, however, get up off the ground and took a step forward to stand slightly in front of Washington. “What are you doing here Siris?” Carolina’s rifle never moved but Washington lowered his after the muzzle started to waver noticeably. 

“You and I aren’t partners anymore but I do keep track of you.” Siris raised his hands and let the pistol he was carrying hang from his thumb by the trigger guard to show he wasn’t trying to shoot. Locus knew better than to think that made him less dangerous. Siris was better at hand to hand than just about anyone Locus had ever met. He couldn’t honestly be sure if Carolina could beat him in a straight up fight so if he was here to start trouble it wasn’t going to matter if he had a gun or not.

Locus’ attention went to the familiar sniper rifle slung on Siris’ back, “You shot me.” It wasn’t a question. The level of accuracy with the avoidance of more serious injury suddenly made a lot more sense in his head. “Why?”

Siris’ head moved a little bit as Carolina pressed the muzzle of her rifle harder into the back of his skull and he grimaced. “Hey, Gates is dead and even if we didn’t part on good terms you were trying to do things right so I wanted to help you escape and get back to it. You can’t make amends from prison.” Siris sounded defensive enough that it made him wonder just how hard he’d had to argue with Megan to even be in the same part of the galaxy with Locus. Siris’ wife had thought it was a mistake to let Locus and Felix remain breathing. If Siris hadn’t stopped her she would have put a bullet in both their heads. 

But even with everything that had gone down, even with the fact that the last thing Siris had ever said to him was to threaten his life if he or Felix ever came around Siris or his family again, his old partner was here. And Siris had been trying to pull a jailbreak for him. The sudden rush of emotions that hit Locus was dizzying in their unfamiliarity making him smile before he knew what he was going to do.

“Code names, Wu.” Locus’ voice was drily amused and it was worth it to watch Siris’ mouth drop open slightly in surprise. 

Carolina backed off slightly with the rifle without actually lowering it and Locus felt Washington step closer to him so he was ready and didn’t jump when the hand landed on his shoulder. “Sam isn’t a prisoner.” 

After that Siris wasn’t the only one looking like he’d been smacked upside the head with a board. Locus had told Washington his name but he’d never used it in the time since so Locus wasn’t honestly sure that the man remembered it. 

Carolina covered her shocked look quickly enough Locus almost doubted he’d seen it and Siris managed to snap his mouth shut but his gaze kept shifting from Locus to Washington and back to Locus like he wasn’t sure what to think or say. “So, _Sam_, are they your partners now?” __

_ _Locus looked past Siris at Carolina. She had said they weren’t friends, but you didn’t need to be friends to work together. It was just that was how they worked. Washington and Carolina were family, the Reds and Blues were family, as Price had said they had complete and total faith in each other and that meant they could do things no one would suspect. He had no right to claim they were partners because he wasn’t family. Locus opened his mouth to deny it but Washington gripped his shoulder a little harder and made him pause. _ _

_ _“Yes. He’s a partner.” Washington let go of Locus’ shoulder and he took a step forward so now he was slightly in front of Locus. _ _

_ _Washington couldn’t know what he was saying. He had no idea who or what Locus considered a partner so stepping in was just an attempt to protect him. It was absurd, Locus didn’t need protecting but there the man was standing in front of the Locus, the mercenary who had almost been party to genocide. _ _

_ _“I suggest you disarm yourself. I doubt Agent Carolina is going to relax until you do.” The look Carolina gave Locus suggested she wasn’t going to relax even with everyone disarmed but she took another step back and let the rifle point at the ground instead of at Siris. _ _

_ _Siris started with the pistol. He crouched and lay it on the ground before he unhooked the sniper rifle and put it with the pistol. There were several knives and a stun baton pulled out to join the guns. Siris looked at Locus as he finished putting all of his weapons on the ground and stood up showing that he was as unarmed as he was going to get. “We need to talk.” _ _

_ _Locus tried not to miss the warm weight of Washington’s hand on his shoulder as he nodded. “Yes, we do.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see there's a new person that wasn't in the tags. I wanted to keep it a surprise and not spoil it. 
> 
> Mason Wu will eventually join the main tags I just didn't want to do it until a while after the reveal. 
> 
> Sorry it was a long chapter, I couldn't find a good place to cut it with needing to catch up for five months of time passage!


	15. Collision

Whether they were 100% aware of it or not, Carolina had been carefully watching Locus and Wash training together since they’d started. Even after Locus had asked for the audience to be removed she’d kept an eye on things. Simmons had helped her by setting up a discreet camera in the practice room that she could view what was going on remotely. 

Simmons hadn’t told Grif there was a camera in there even when Carolina warned him that Grif was going to hold a grudge and make him miserable when he found out. Simmons had just shrugged and said he was used to Grif doing that and he didn’t want anyone to tease Wash because she’d had him set up a Freelancer nanny cam.

Carolina had bit her tongue and left the room before she could say anything after that. Simmons had a point but she didn’t trust Locus enough to not watch what happened in the beginning. She didn’t like to watch the sparring. She sure as hell didn’t want to admit that Locus was doing better at working with Wash than she was but it didn’t take too long to realize that was exactly the case. 

She had told Locus she couldn’t be the one to spar with Wash but Carolina wasn’t sure if he realized why she’d said it. Every time they sparred together all Carolina could see was the differences in Wash. He still struggled with his right side, he’d lost a lot of speed, and every time all she could think was he was broken and that wasn’t fair to Wash. If she treated him like he was broken then he might start to let it affect his confidence and that really would be an end to his recovery. That was why she’d raided Grif’s beer stash and drank after every session until Locus had stepped in. 

Then she’d drank because Locus was able to do a better job than she was. Finally Grif had told Carolina she needed to stop stealing his beer and had forced her back into lazy lessons. Then Carolina had turned around and started training with Tucker and Caboose to work on getting her attitude adjusted and back on track. She was just glad Locus was keeping Wash occupied with training while she managed it. 

The day Wash had ‘graduated’ and ended up outside training with Locus Carolina hadn’t actually intended to follow and watch. The reason she followed in the end was to try to keep the others from butting in and causing havoc. She gave them a good head start before following. Since the only people she’d expected to cause problems had been the Reds and Blues she hadn’t bothered to put on her armor. That didn’t mean she didn’t go armed, this was the planet that had random dinosaur invasions show up and who knew what weird things Sarge would get up to. Sarge tended to get creative when he was bored and creative usually meant something that went boom or might be armed and accidentally decide that there were only enemies. 

It took her a few minutes to realize there were signs of a third person following Wash and Locus. At first Carolina had ground her teeth together and wondered which person on the team was going to get extra training sessions with her. Carolina quickly realized the person she was following wasn’t anyone on her team. She wasn’t exactly an expert tracker but the terrain included a lot of brush to move through and even the most careful person left signs and made noise. Unless you were as good as the person she was following. There were a few times Carolina thought she must have imagined it. The only people that moved this quietly through the area were herself and Locus and this wasn’t Locus. 

Carolina had almost caught up with them when she heard metal hit metal. She’d been around enough to know that it was a knife hitting something so she pulled her rifle and held it ready as she heard the second knife hit as she slipped into the clearing. Wash had a rifle on someone dressed in muted purples and Locus was on the ground. The newcomer also had a pistol aimed back at Wash so Carolina nudged him in the back of the head with the muzzle of her rifle to make sure he knew that pulling the trigger was a seriously bad idea. “Drop it.” 

It turned out the intruder was someone Locus knew. That was unexpected, especially since it turned out this ‘Siris’ wasn’t even there to kill him. He was trying to jailbreak him like he had back on Chorus. Of course, said jailbreak involved shooting Locus to get him out. It sounded like a plan Sarge would have come up with to be honest. 

There were so many different things that came up that were going to take Carolina a while to unpack and deal with to be honest. 

Locus knew the rather short mercenary that had shot him on Chorus, who had the nerve to hold a gun on Wash, and somehow Carolina had backed off instead of slamming the butt of her rifle into the back of his head. Locus not only knew the mercenary but he’d _smiled_ when he realized who was there and he’d made a remark about using code names that was so obviously teasing that Carolina had almost dropped her rifle. 

She knew that Locus had to have known people before Felix, that he had to have had a history but it was different to know that and to see it. There had been a few smiles from Locus since he joined them on Iris but they weren’t like this. Locus’ smiles with them were distant, reluctant, and a good portion of the time a little pained looking. This smile had been the first emotion aside from anger and frustration out of Locus that had looked genuine to her.

And then there was the whole thing with Wash. He and Locus taking turns standing in front of each other had been bad enough but then he’d called Locus, ‘Sam’, and obviously it meant something when Siris’ expression was just as shocked as Locus’. 

Carolina wanted to pull Wash aside and demand what the fuck had been going on in those training sessions except she’d seen what happened in the training sessions and whatever this was it wasn’t from that. Was Sam, Locus’ real name? When the hell had Wash found it out and why hadn’t he told her? There would be a conversation about this. Carolina had found herself clicking the safety on and off on her rifle in agitation and forced herself to stop and take a deep breath before she loosened her grip on the rifle and made sure to keep her fingers away from the trigger and safety switch while she watched Siris disarm himself. 

It probably only seemed like it took several minutes for this Siris to unarm himself to Carolina. No matter how many weapons someone was carrying and how carefully they were putting them down to keep from starting something it never took that long to unarm. Everyone who used weapons for a living could take them on and off in their sleep without skipping a beat. But it still seemed like it took forever from the time Siris put down the pistol he’d had hanging from his thumb to when he put down the stun baton at the end. Carolina felt a little naked compared to the arsenal on the ground and she itched to go put on her armor.

Instead she kept her rifle lowered with her finger on the trigger guard and forced herself to stay in that hyper aware state of readiness so that she could react to whatever happened almost instantly. 

Siris stood up and held his arms out showing he was unarmed but never looked at anyone but Locus when he spoke. “We need to talk.” 

Locus nodded. “Yes, we do.”

Carolina stepped forward, rifle still lowered, and shook her head. “I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about but first, Locus, you and Wash go alert the rest of the base. I’ll stay here with our guest.” The frown that formed on Locus’ face wasn’t as bad as Carolina had expected. Maybe it was the fact that she’d given him an order and for once Wash hadn’t stepped in and told her Locus had to make a decision. Carolina had heard a lot of conversations in the last few months between Locus and the others about the difference in orders in different situations but he still leaned toward wanting to be told what to do. Carolina liked to tell people what to do so it was something of a frustrating situation for both of them. 

“On it Boss.” Wash nodded to her and gestured for Locus to follow. Locus hesitated for a few seconds looking at Siris before he finally nodded and followed Wash out of the clearing back toward the base. Wash murmured something to Locus as they left that Carolina didn’t quite catch but thought she caught Sarge’s name. Locus went from frowning to pinching the bridge of his nose and squinting like he’d just picked up one of Wash’s migraines. 

Good, they’d keep the others from running in here guns blazing to find out what was going on. And by the others that meant Sarge of course. 

“So, I’m going to assume you want me to stick with calling you Siris.” Carolina said and she finally shifted her grip on the rifle to sling it across her back. It was a small concession with the pile of weapons on the ground. She nodded at the set of chairs that Grif had dragged up near the ship so he and Simmons could sit and drink beer while they forced Locus to be social with them. “Let’s have a seat. They’ll take a little bit so while we wait we can talk.” Chances were at best Locus and Wash would have to answer at least a hundred questions. At worst they would have to keep Sarge from mounting a loaded assault to protect a member of the Red Team. She was curious to see which would be the way it went.

Siris barely glanced at his pile of weapons before pushing his fingers back through his short cropped hair and nodded. Carolina noted the gray at the temples of his black hair and wondered if Siris was in the war with Locus and Felix or if he’d met Locus later. There was a lot they still didn’t know about Locus.

“Is he really a partner?” Siris hadn’t even really settled in his seat when he fired off what was undoubtedly the first of many questions. 

Carolina took a moment to rummage in the storage bin near where Wash had pulled the rifle from during the fight. She could feel Siris’ eyes practically boring a hole in her as he watched her. She fished out two bottles of Grif’s ‘go make Locus be social’ stash of beer and held them up with a slight smirk to show she wasn’t holding weapons. “That depends on who you’re talking to and what you mean by partner.” 

Despite everything that had gone down that day and knowing that Siris had been the one to shoot Locus on Chorus she stepped up to him and offered him one of the bottles. York had always said they should always negotiate with a beer in hand and despite sometimes wanting to hit him over the head with the bottle he’d had a point. 

Siris hesitated before taking the bottle. There was a confused frown on his face as he looked the bottle over. “You have a base that looks like someone got bored and stopped building it before it was done but you have beer. Not the priorities I expected from a Freelancer. So if I asked _you_ is he a partner?” 

“Former Freelancer.” Carolina said as she took the other chair. She wasn’t about to get into the story about how the bases burned down with him. Carolina didn’t want to spoil the perception that the Reds and Blues were competent and dangerous soldiers that knew what they were doing just yet. 

Although, after saving the universe maybe it wasn’t the wrong impression of them anymore. 

“And, that comes down to what you mean by partner.” Carolina said. “He’s part of our team. He’s a Red, and if you say the wrong thing about him Sarge will probably do his best to shoot you and ask questions later.” Let him make of that what he would. 

“Do you trust him?” Siris asked. He hadn’t opened his bottle yet.

Carolina deliberately stopped to open her bottle and take a sip to show it was safe to drink before she tipped her head to study Siris through the fiery bangs that fell over one eye. “Do you?” 

Siris jerked slightly at the question before he looked off to the side like he could see Locus through to where the distant walls of the base were. It was an interesting reaction that she filed away as a piece of the puzzle that just kept getting bigger. 

“Why did you try to get him off Chorus?” Carolina asked while she was still watching his reactions. Siris was an enigma to her despite the reaction she’d picked up on and she didn’t like that. Just because she’d let go of some of her control issues didn’t mean she could accept not being in control when it meant the safety of her team and her family. “I mean it doesn’t take a genius to figure out you two split ways and unless I’m reading it wrong there were at least a couple of burned bridges in there. So why put yourself on the line?”

Siris looked back toward the base again and his thumb rubbed lightly over the cybernetic leg. Carolina filed that away with the twitch from earlier. It was a tell, but did it mean he was uncomfortable or just thinking up a story to tell her? Knowing the tell was useless if you didn’t know what it said. 

“He wasn’t always Locus.” Siris’ voice was soft, reluctant. “He was capable of being protective of his team at one point. You had to really look to see it, but it was there. And then it wasn’t and I couldn’t work with him anymore.” 

“So he was capable at one point. What happened?” Carolina knew if their positions were reversed she probably wouldn’t tell him anything. She asked him anyway. Not answering was just as much of an answer as anything at this point.

Siris looked back at Carolina and she could feel his gaze on her like a weight. He finally smiled and popped the top off his beer even though he didn’t take a drink. “You learn things about yourself in war. But you know that, I’ve heard enough about you Freelancers to know that much.”

Carolina took another small sip to keep her hands feel like they were busy but she was barely wetting her lips with the beer each time. She wanted all of her wits and reflexes available if something happened. She definitely wasn’t talking about Freelancer. “What did Locus learn?” 

“Not Locus. Felix. What he learned meant the two of them had to leave and never come back. And Locus kept his word.” Siris finally took a drink and she could see his trachea move as he took several swallows from the bottle. 

“Let’s just skip the friendly interrogation. Here’s what you want to know.” Siris put the bottle down in the little cup holder indent in the arm of the camp chair and pushed his fingers through his hair again. “There’s a reason I was going to take him from the hospital. It meant I could keep him unconscious which meant I could control that Locus never knew I was there and keep him out of my life. I planted a virus that erased Locus’ image on all the recordings so they would have a hard time proving he was there. I had a location where I was going to hide him and let him recover, paid for the medical assistance, new papers and a way to get him new armor. I almost had him out of the hospital on the way to my ship when the alarm started going off on his wrist. Finding out he had a bomb strapped to him reinforced the idea you were keeping him prisoner and not knowing if I could take it off without it going off blew my entire plan all to hell.”

Carolina couldn’t quite hold back the snort of amusement at Siris’ choice of words. “Well, it _almost_ blew things all to hell. Luckily you stopped.” 

“Freelancers aren’t supposed to have senses of humor.” Siris’ voice seemed a little sour but Carolina also got the sense there was some exasperated humor to it as well. She suspected it was about the same tone she used to get when York would tell jokes. 

“Oh, we have senses of humor. Not all of them were great senses of humor unless you like knock knock jokes.” Carolina rolled her eyes but then wondered when it had started to not hurt when she mentioned something to do with the PFL. Sometime when she wasn’t paying attention some of the cracks left behind by all that had happened had healed. She shoved those thoughts away to examine later. 

Business first. Reflection later. “We have a different problem, you were the sniper but that means you weren’t trying to kill Locus. Someone else was. Chances are they’re still looking for him. If we didn’t fool them with the ruse on Chorus then transferring him to a new location won’t keep them off him forever.” 

It wasn’t information he shouldn’t know. If Siris had been watching that long and had been that deep into their computer systems he might even know about the original attempt on Locus’ life by Corporal Tobey. Kimball’s team hadn’t been able to find any connection from Tobey to the latest attempt to kill Locus but that didn’t mean they didn’t exist. The reminder that they were working mostly blindly when it came to answers set her stomach twisting unhappily. The evidence said the killer didn’t care if there were people besides Locus in the way and that meant her whole team was in danger. 

“I don’t know who threw the grenade. I wasn’t actually planning to make my move that day.” Siris took another drink then looked at the level in his bottle and frowned slightly. Carolina wasn’t sure if it was him being surprised at how much he’d had already or possibly the taste. It wasn’t the greatest quality of beer. “As soon as I knew someone was out to kill him I had to up my schedule. Luckily he was at the right angle for me to get my shot. And before you ask, no, I didn’t get a look at the person who threw the grenade.”

It would have been nice if Siris had seen who they were looking for but Carolina hadn’t really hoped for it. There was something nagging at her mind about what Siris had said. “You said you had paid someone to take care of Locus? Or at least you’d paid to have medical aid at the ready?”

“Yes. Why?” Siris had put his bottle aside and from the way he was studying her, Carolina thought he might be working just as hard at figuring her out as she was him.

She didn’t trust him yet. Just because he knew Locus and said that he was going to get him out of the current situation didn’t mean he was even close to telling the truth. Trust him or not they might need him to figure this whole thing out. “Do they know you lost your target?” 

An interesting display of emotions crossed Siris’ face at the question. Confusion, irritation and back to confusion again. She would really like to know why that had pushed his buttons a little. “No...where are you going with this?” 

“Whoever is trying to kill Locus isn’t going to stop. It’ll only be a matter of time until they manage to track him here, you did after all, and I’d rather we didn’t have open warfare in our home.” Carolina leaned forward and put her elbows on her knees with a light smirk. She was so tempted to be cryptic and see how many more of his buttons she could push but that really wasn’t her strong suit. She’d leave that to Wash. “I was thinking, _if_ I decided we could trust you, and that is a _big_if, then we can use your set up to lay out a false trail and see what kind of fish we can get on the hook.” 

Siris stared at her with narrowed eyes and a frown on his face before he leaned back in the chair and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “This would have been so much easier if we could have just fought it out.”

“Agreed. But that ship has sailed for the moment.” Carolina couldn’t help letting out a soft chuckle as she pushed herself up out of her camp chair. “Come on, Wash and Locus should have spread the news about you by now.” 

“I’m going to regret this aren’t I?” Siris stood up when she did and to his credit didn’t even ask if he could take his weapons. 

“Probably. Come on, it was Tucker’s turn to cook so we might be able to at least feed you something besides ration bars before we all start trying to shoot each other again.” Carolina rewarded his restraint with his weapons by leading the way out of the clearing back toward the base so he wasn’t in the position of vulnerability. Siris followed a few steps behind and judging from his earlier stealth put his feet down hard enough Carolina could tell his position without turning to look. 

If they all survived having him here Carolina thought he might make a good ally to have in the future. Assuming he didn’t sell them out or stab them in the back. She wasn’t that trusting of any outsider much less one that knew both Locus and Felix. She definitely would be contacting Vanessa to get any information she and Santa could dig up.

But it was tentatively a good beginning so far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life got interesting. I was sidetracked by life, Covid, work and everything hitting all at once. 75% of my company was furloughed, I was one of the lucky ones that not only kept their job but didn't take reduced pay from my salary. But just because 75% of the team was gone didn't mean that major projects with due dates went away so I've been struggling with that, the unfamiliarity of working from home and survivor's guilt for not being as affected by it as so many others were. 
> 
> It turned off my brain. I would sit and look at a blank doc and struggle to get something down but nothing seemed to work. I know that I'm not the only one that went through this, and if you're reading this I'm really grateful that there are people out there still reading fic and I hope that if you get any enjoyment out of this it helps a little bit with everything going on. I know I've gone back and read all of my favorites as comfort content over and over in the last couple of months and I hope that the authors know how much it has helped to have all these stories out here. 
> 
> I'm happy my mind seems to be coming back, so I hope there won't be such a huge gap with the next chapter.


	16. Sometimes the team chooses you

Wash wasn’t sure what he thought of Locus’ old partner, Siris, showing up but it was almost a relief when Carolina asked for him and Locus to go tell the others so he could have a few minutes to try to figure out what was going on in his head. He also wasn’t sure why he’d called Locus “Sam” and said he was a partner. For once he had just gone with his gut and said what seemed right instead of overthinking it. Maybe all of this work listening to his muscle memory instead of thinking was influencing him more than he thought. 

That was a concept Wash would have to try to work his way through later. He wished Donut was here to help him talk it out because he seemed more in tune with that sort of thing. Since Donut was traveling that wasn’t going to be an option for a while. He wasn’t sure Carolina was going to be any help. The look she’d given him had been more of a threat of an interrogation than a conversation. 

When Locus finally started to follow him out of the clearing to head back to the base Wash could tell he was still hesitant to leave Siris. Wash leaned a little closer to him and kept his voice low, “If we don’t catch Sarge he’ll end up here armed and belligerent. He won’t listen to Carolina so if we don’t want to find out more about why Siris is here while dodging buckshot we’d better handle it.” 

Locus’ frown instantly turned into a deep sigh and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course.” Any sign of reluctance to leave was gone after that. Instead Locus picked up the pace fast enough that Wash was struggling a little to keep up with him over the uneven ground. Give him a flat surface and he was in shape enough to keep up with any of them now but stick a bunch of roots out of the ground and he had to be careful not to trip. Even with the brace on his ankle he had a tendency to catch the toes on his right foot.

There was no way Wash was going to bring attention to it. He didn’t like anyone remembering he had limitations he didn’t used to have and it was a point of stubborn pride to keep his mouth shut. He managed to cover for the first time he stumbled but the second time he caught his toes Wash yanked hard trying to free his foot which only made him stumble harder and stomp down with his other foot sending a little jolt of pain through his knee. Locus paused to look back at him but Wash gestured to him to keep going so with a small nod he turned and started walking again.

They’d almost made it out of the brush so Wash made the mistake of relaxing. This time he wasn’t ready when he caught his foot again. Before Wash could trip there was a hand around his upper arm helping to steady him while he hopped forward to catch his balance. The hop made him bump into Locus who let out a quiet grunt at the impact but otherwise didn’t seem to care that Wash had just ran into him.

They had spent weeks training with each other. There were times sparring they were closer than this but Wash hadn’t noticed it the same way he was noticing Locus now. He was excruciatingly aware that they were standing almost chest to chest with Locus’ fingers hot against the skin of his arm. It was a good thing they didn’t spar in their armor or Wash’s heartbeat might be setting off alarms on everyone’s HUD right about now.

Wash managed a smile that probably looked a little pained. He could feel the skin on his neck and the tips of his ears burning, hopefully he could blame that on being winded from half running back to the base. “Thanks.” 

“You said we were partners.” Locus’ voice didn’t give anything away and Wash found himself feeling grateful for that. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know exactly what was going on in Locus’ head at the moment. 

“I did.” Wash nodded. He was still hyper aware of the hand on his bicep. 

“Partners assist each other.” Locus was still using that same even tone.

Wash nodded again, feeling more than a little like an idiot. Sometimes he understood everything Locus was trying to tell him. They had developed some ability to read each other through all the sparring and practice together but right now Wash felt like he was working with half the script. “Thanks. But I can walk the rest of the way on my own.” Locus finally seemed to realize he was still holding onto Wash’s arm even though he didn’t need it for balance anymore and yanked his hand back. “Of course.” 

“Come on. Let’s go do damage control.” Wash turned to start back to the base again. The way Locus had snatched his hand back had sent a sharp sting through his chest and he didn’t want to deal with that right now. Dealing with telling the rest of the team that they had an intruder, that just happened to know Locus, would be just the thing to keep him too busy to think about anything else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“No.” Sarge’s voice was deadly serious. “He can’t have Locus, we called dibs damn it. No respect for the fundamentals and basic rules of the universe!” The older soldier grabbed up his shotgun from the table and cocked it while he stood up. “I won’t have it.” 

Obviously, telling the others was going about as well as expected.

Wash quickly stepped in front of Sarge before he could take his gun and leave. “Sarge, Locus isn’t going anywhere. Let’s just wait for Carolina to get done talking to Siris and we can all discuss this.” If anyone else had stepped in front of him Sarge might have still barreled through them without caring but Wash had noticed that after he was injured even if Sarge wasn’t obvious about it he was careful not to do things like that with him. And sometimes, like now, he took advantage of that. 

Sarge grumbled loudly but dropped back into his seat. He was still holding his shotgun so Wash didn’t back up out of his path to the door. Having to go around would slow him down enough for Locus or Wash to grab him if he made a break for it. 

“I hate to agree with Sarge...and I mean I hate this worse than pretty much anything so don’t ever bring it up again...but Locus is a Red and how do we know we can trust this guy?” Grif looked like he had indigestion just saying he agreed with Sarge. 

Locus looked between Grif and Sarge and Wash heard his quiet growl of frustration. “Since when am I a Red? I don’t remember being asked to be part of the group.”

“Since Sarge called dibs, weren’t you listening?” Simmons’ tone had added a very obvious silent ‘duh’ to the end of his sentence. Hearing it Tucker had put his face in his hand and started laughing until Wash had kicked him in the foot with a frown. After that he tried to keep a straight face but little explosions of laughter kept escaping randomly.

Grif elbowed Tucker from the other side after Wash had kicked him. “Look, Donut is off on some soul searching journey probably looking for the perfect day spa, Doc is working at the hospital on Chorus and he kind of belonged to both teams anyway, and you’re the only one that can talk to Lopez. Plus it’s about time we had a bad ass fighter on our team. The Blues had Tex, now they have Wash so it’s all about keeping the teams even right?” 

“What about Agent Carolina?” Locus looked interested in the team dynamic despite himself. Wash relaxed a little since there were no further danger signs but still kept his eye on Sarge just in case he decided they weren’t paying attention and tried to take a dive out the window or something just as bizarre. 

“Oh Carolina’s both.” Caboose solved Wash’s need to continue watching Sarge by deciding to sit right next to the man so he was bookended by Grif on one side and Caboose on the other. Sarge definitely would be okay with knocking either of them over to make his escape but they were both big enough it would be a struggle. “She is Red when we need Red and she’s Blue when we need Blue. And Wash and Sarge are the team Dads.” 

“Wash is more like the team mom.” Tucker hadn’t even tried to keep his voice down of course. 

“What!?” Wash felt his voice hit a level that might get him accused of shrieking before he managed to stop himself and take a deep breath. Everyone in the room, including Locus, looked amused at his reaction and he could feel the headache trying to start. Wash pointed at Locus with a growl. “You are _not_ allowed to start!” 

“Just tell them more about Siris, please!” Wash was doing his best to ignore Grif snickering openly and high fiving Tucker. He was tempted to pick up something off the counter and put a dent in someone’s forehead. Instead Wash crossed his arms and leaned against his back against it. He was aware that the look on his face was probably bordering on a pout but he didn’t care. 

“We met during the war. Near the end we were in the same company and after we left the UNSC we worked some jobs together.” The amusement on Locus’ face had been replaced with the distant iciness that was there whenever he talked about before he’d left Chorus. That was the expression of the man that wanted to go by the name of his armor. Wash knew that he and Carolina sounded similar to that when they talked about Freelancer. Some things were just so raw if you gave the emotions an inch they would grab you by the throat and leave you to bleed before you knew it.

Simmons narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “We?” 

Locus nodded once with his eyes fixed on the wall behind everyone. “Siris, Felix and I. We were partners. Mercenaries.” 

“But, if there were three of you, why was it just you and Felix on Chorus?” Tucker had finally left off his random snickering and his voice was sour when he said Felix’s name. Wash still remembered Tucker yelling at him for saying something similar to what Felix used to say. There was definitely still a lot of anger there for the dead mercenary. It said a lot that Tucker never brought him up around Locus unless Locus brought him up first.

“There was a falling out.” Locus shifted his gaze briefly to Tucker before staring at the wall again. “Siris told us to leave and we left. The job on Chorus came up not long after we parted ways.” 

Grif snorted and elbowed Tucker again. “Dude, he could make War and Peace a two paragraph book. I mean obviously there’s a lot to unpack there. Like, probably an entire book series worth of stuff, but whatever. All we want to know is do we need to beat the crap out of him or worry he’s going to try to do some mustache twirling nefarious deeds on your person?”

“Mustache twirling nefarious deeds...Grif have you been reading fanfiction again?” Simmons looked vaguely offended but Wash wasn’t sure if it was because of the prospect of the fanfiction or something else. He also didn’t really want to know the answer. Grif drew in a breath, obviously ready to fire back at Simmons so Wash cleared his throat with a look at Tucker. Tucker’s expression didn’t change but there was a low thud from below the table as he apparently kicked Grif in the ankle to distract him.

“Siris isn’t here to hurt or kill me.” Locus had rushed in to keep Grif from starting a fight over the kick from Tucker. “He could have killed me on Chorus if that was what he was looking for. Disabling me and removing the tracker was not meant maliciously.” 

As soon as Locus said that Sarge tried to bounce to his feet with his shotgun again but Caboose and Grif were too close in their chairs and he got tangled up so that he ended up thumping back into his chair. “No one shoots my men and tells me it wasn’t malicious! Are you insane?”

“Sarge, he just meant that Siris couldn’t figure out another way around all of our precautions so he got desperate and shot the tracker.” Wash held out his hands in a calming gesture hoping that Sarge listened to him. “If it wasn’t for your device his plan, desperate as it was, would have worked.” Okay, it wasn’t exactly how it had happened but Wash mentally crossed his fingers that it would mollify Sarge and get him off target.

After a moment of looking between Locus and Wash with a scowl Sarg finally relaxed into his seat and made a scoffing sound. “Damn right I saved the day!” 

Grif turned to gape at Sarge. “That’s not what he...ow Tucker stop kicking me!” Grif turned and shoved at Tucker’s shoulder after he was obviously kicked again and nearly sent Tucker sprawling on the floor. 

Wash counted to ten under his breath, twice, before he could continue. To his surprise when he turned his head away so he wouldn’t be tempted to either laugh or yell at Tucker trying to get situated in his chair again he saw Locus watching him instead of the wall he’d been studying intently. At first Wash thought Locus was going to protest since Sarge’s method of ‘saving the day’ could have easily blown his arm off. Instead the corners of Locus’ mouth quirked up in his version of a smile. It was an odd moment of camaraderie in the face of the insanity that Wash couldn’t help the smile he flashed in return. It felt like one of those moments you had after serving alongside someone where you were thinking the same thing without having to say it. 

Luckily before Wash could really process that and let the awkwardness of the moment take over Carolina opened the door and entered with Siris. “Look who I brought home. No feet on the table, no throwing each other out of chairs...I saw that Grif...and no shooting, stabbing or getting blood on the table. It’s my turn to clean up tonight and I will personally run drills with anyone who breaks those rules.” 

Wash wished his threats were taken as seriously as Carolina’s since there were several audible gulps from the Reds and Blues at that. “Siris, the guys, guys, this is Siris.” Wash’s almost awkward moment was quickly pushed from his thoughts and he nodded to Locus. “We’ve got it here.” 

Locus returned his nod with a deep breath before he looked at Siris and gestured to the door back outside. “I’m ready.” He let Siris go outside first then turned his attention to Sarge. “We will stay in sight. There is no need to follow us.” 

He didn’t look happy with the situation but Sarge stayed sitting and eventually nodded to Locus. “We’re right here, you yell if you need your team. Understand?” 

“Clearly.” There was another of those slight smiles from Locus to Sarge and the others before he left to join Siris. 

Wash knew if Carolina didn’t think it was all right after talking to Siris she wouldn’t have brought him back to the base but that didn’t make him any happier with the situation. Still, someone was going to have to keep the others busy or they’d find a reason to barge out there and join the conversation. “Come on guys, it’s Tucker’s turn to cook and Grif still hasn’t done the lunch dishes. Let’s get on it.” He managed to get everyone moving with a lot of grumbling and moaning but at least they were looking like they were doing something other than speculating on what was happening outside. 

Carolina didn’t join in, instead she took her rifle and with a quick wink to Wash headed for the back door out of the base. She was obviously going to keep an eye on things while he kept the others busy. That made Wash feel a lot better.


End file.
